


I am teaching myself how to be free

by tattooedgreenhouse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Order 66 still happens, Overprotective Big Brother Cody, Slow Burn, but they do find each other again don't worry, kind of, look this was meant to be a oneshot and it very quickly became a monster, lots of hurt/comfort, wow yeah this is definitely not a oneshot anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 84,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedgreenhouse/pseuds/tattooedgreenhouse
Summary: He knew that Kenobi liked to steep the standard-issue tea for less than the recommended time because he thought it became too bitter.He knew that Kenobi would stand in front of the holomaps with him until they both went cross-eyed with exhaustion, neither of them willing to give up on working through a strategy.He knew that when Trapper had frozen up before a battle, Kenobi hadn’t reported it. Instead he had spoken to him softly until his hands stopped shaking, and it made something in Cody’s chest twist to see someone else looking out for his brother the way he did.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 250
Kudos: 1178





	1. Cody Decides He Might (Possibly) Be Able to Trust His General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a to see English translations. (but only 99% of the mando'a. there are a few scattered words or repeat phrases that didn't tag)
> 
> [This spreadsheet](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1dl2RLRg0YZsWWKM7aOtEFyM7kvnRgeHK/view) is where I am getting all my Mando'a from, and it includes things like the _Resol'nare_ and grammar and phrases.
> 
> Also [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AA6mOVK9kDGpDdUdbZZLf8fmI-RhrvqEXhozNGds8ds/edit) is the episode order I will be following, cuz the actual airing order of the show is kind of fucked up.

Growing up on Kamino was sterile and regimented. It kept CC-2224 on his toes from the moment he realized that to be singled out for anything other than high marks in his training was grounds to be decommissioned. He watched as batches were picked clean of what the longnecks called “defective elements.” The _ kaminiise _ marched those clones away—watching them with the same flat, detached gaze of the aquatic predators that swam beneath Tipoca City—until they disappeared down seldom-used corridors.

 _ Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la _, indeed.

It was a mockery of the stories Jango had told to the first few wide-eyed batches. He had made it very clear to them early on that he was only staying on Kamino to look after Boba and to help train the rest of them, but he also told them stories of Mandalore and its warrior ways in hopes that they had inherited some of the same fearlessness, the same dedication to the many ways of conflict. His stories spread through the _vode_ until nearly all of the cadets knew the _Resol’nare_ , and his Mando’a became the thread that bound them, not only to Mandalore but to each other.

The others in the _Cuy’val Dar_ were not so courteous, and often they punished clones who stepped out of line, no matter how much they spoke of the values of ingenuity. Unless the creativity of a clone was ruthless and unyielding, it had no place. They worked primarily with the first batches but every so often they were seen giving “demonstrations” in the training yard, and brothers would return to their bunks that night with bruises mottling their bodies. CC-2224 knew that there were more than a few tears shed in the safety of their sealed bunks once the lights went out at the end of the day.

He learned to be quiet. He learned to be efficient. He learned to stay still and observe and take in as much information that he could before devising a strategy. And slowly he rose to the top of his batch, each decommissioned brother fueling something inside him—to be _better_ , to _protect_ —until his spine was made of durasteel and his brothers could be safe under his command.

He knew that the trainers were whispering about him and his sudden rise in the ranks. He also knew that they would see his ruthless efficiency as strength, and so he trained harder and harder until they had no choice but to consider him for ARC training. They thought of him as relentless and cold, but CC-2224 knew that becoming a high-ranking officer was one of the only ways of keeping his brothers under his watchful eye when they finally, inevitably, went to war.

In the safety of their dormitories, his brothers looked at his accomplishments and named him _Kote_.

More than once he caught the eyes of another cadet on him, the blonde one from a batch in the same dormitory. It was never an angry look, only calculating and curious. _Kote_ knew he was not the only clone with the fierce need to defend, and it was the first time he decided defying the _kaminiise_ might just be worth the risk.

He left a datapad on CT-7567’s bunk containing a number of strategy games. He caught his eye when they were in the same training halls and subtly corrected the grip in his blaster, watching the little blonde cadet mirror him as he lined up his next shot. He helped where he could without arousing suspicion, and he tried not to feel a certain swell of pride when CT-7567 rose through the ranks in his own batch until they were more often than not placed in the same training cycles.

It was Gree who gave CT-7567 his name after a brutal sparring session on the exposed deck on a rare rain-free day. After a hard-fought match left his opponent pinned to the deck, the cadet yielded and CT-7567 stepped away, sending _Kote_ a brief, smug grin. At the same time, a single burst of sunlight glanced across them both and made his buzzed-short hair into a glittering crown of gold. After that, Gree took to calling him _Rex_ , telling them that it meant “king” in one of the languages he had taken to learning secretly in his bunk after the lights went out.

Rex was sheepish when he learned the translation, but they would not allow him to brush off the quiet joy that came with earning a name.

________________________

The day _Kote_ got the news he would be placed into ARC training was also the first time he saw a human that wasn’t one of his brothers or part of the _Cuy’val Dar_. He was waiting for his turn at the weight bench in a training room when, through one of the glass walls, he saw a figure walk into sight and speak with Lama Su. A human, but not one he recognized. His robes were wet from the rain outside and his hair was just beginning to dry a shade of reddish gold that matched his scruffy beard. He was dwarfed by the height of the _kaminii_ next to him, but moved with a grace _Kote_ had only seen in the swiftest of his trainers.

A fighter, he decided, falling into the attentive stillness he adopted when he wanted to observe without appearing to. But something must have drawn his attention because the man in the cloak looked around and studied him curiously with eyes that were the same shade of stormy blue as the ocean outside. He didn’t appear hostile, but _Kote_ took no chances. Though he did not break eye contact, he schooled his face into a mask of vague indifference, as though he just happened to look up at just the right moment to catch this stranger’s eye.

The man in the robe slid his gaze from clone to clone as Lama Su continued speaking, and as far as _Kote_ could tell, he was becoming more and more agitated with every word. The man was hiding it well, but he had experience reading the faces of his most stoic brothers, and he saw the way the stranger’s spine straightened and his hands twisted beneath the long sleeves of his robe.

They both walked out of sight and _Kote_ did not realize that he was staring at the place they had been until the trooper behind him cleared his throat and nodded in the direction of the now-empty weight bench. He stepped over and took up his spot beneath the bar, thinking about the man in the robe and every detail he could remember. He moved like a fighter, but his long hair and beard did not speak of any military regulations he knew. Lama Su spoke to him like he was a privileged guest, but he appeared uneasy around the _kaminiise_. Most interesting, however, was the silver-handled weapon hanging from his belt beneath the fall of his robe.

It seems theJedi had finally come to Kamino.

________________________

 _Kote_ was in the medbay with three broken ribs when the call came in that the clone army was needed on Geonosis. His brothers rushed by, heading to their ships as a claxon rang in the distant hangar bay, and he could only watch as they filed past the medbay door in full armor, bound for the battlefield.

 _Kote_ was angry. More than that, he was furious.

The _vode_ , his brothers, were being sent to some planet for the war they had been trained to fight their whole lives, and he could not so much as lift a finger to help them. He knew that this battle would just be the first of many, but he wanted to be there _now_. He was their captain, and it was his job to be there on the ground with his men so that he could protect them.

Something ugly roiled in his stomach as he lay on the bed and willed himself to heal as hours passed without a word from anyone about the battle. One of the med-droids programed for bedside manner trundled over and asked if he needed anything. He bit his tongue against the urge to demand an update from the thing, even though he knew it would not have the answers he needed.

“If that is all you need, I will be going Co-dy 2224.”

The little machine had overheard him talking to some of the cadets the day before and had attempted to use the name they had given him, but it had not been programmed with a Mando’a vocabulary. _Kote_ knew that correcting it would mean admitting that he did, in fact, have a name, which would put him in danger with the _kaminiise_. He decided to just let the droid carry on and, if asked, he could write it off as a mispronunciation of his “CC” designation.

It wasn’t until the next day that Rex came wandering in with his helmet clutched tightly under his arm. His once-white armor was streaked with dirt. His blacks no longer black but a dusty grey.

He walked over to the bed and sat heavily on the side, an odd, flat look in his eyes. _Kote_ winced as he pulled himself up to a sitting position and quickly glanced around the medbay for any longnecks, then pulled Rex in close so their foreheads rested gently together. It took Rex a few moments before the tension fell out of his shoulders and his breathing steadied enough to pull away.

 _ "Rejorhaa’i ni" _, _Kote_ demanded quietly. It was a risk using Mando’a where the longnecks might hear, but he knew Rex needed the familiarity. He calmed down after a few moments but still would not look _Kote_ in the eye.

“We came in to evacuate the _jetiise_ , but there were so many dead and I couldn’t _do_ anything. Then our brothers fell and I couldn’t… I was thrown out of a kriffing gunship, _Kote_.” Rex laughed weakly but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He kept his hand on Rex’s shoulder, fingers on top of his dusty blacks, the warmth seeping into his hand as evidence that his brother had returned to Kamino in one piece. He let Rex sit on the side of the bed in silence for a while before he spoke again.

“Did you protect them? Just one person, _Rex’ika_.”

“I think so. On the ground it was chaos, but when I got thrown there was a senator. I helped her reinforce a couple of the _jetiise_.” He trailed off, thinking hard.

“But _Kote_ , Jango was there,” Rex said, looking up for the first time since he had walked into the medbay. “He was killed in the battle.”

The words rang hollowly inside _Kote_ ’s skull, but he didn’t quite know how to feel about them. Jango had never been particularly warm to the clones, but he had been the one to tell them stories of Mandalore as children. He had been the one to teach them Mando’a. He was the one who taught the early batches how to aim their first blasters.

“He was working for the Separatists. He sided against us, against his _ verde." _ Rex was shaking his head slowly as if he still didn’t quite believe what he had seen, but _Kote_ knew he would be angry soon enough, once the shock had worn off. He thought he might have been in shock himself, but Rex needed reassurance, not more questions.

“We will teach the cadets, then,” he said quietly, squeezing the hand still on his brother’s shoulder, “Make sure that his stories are still told. He made his choice, but we don’t have to let it affect us.” _Kote_ shook the hand on Rex’s shoulder to make him look up again. “We may look like him, but he let us know often enough that we were not the same person. His choices are not ours to make.”

He tried not to let the bitterness in his voice cloud the sentiment. Despite what the _kaminiise_ thought, despite the constant reminders that they were property of the Republic, _Kote_ and Rex and every other clone knew that they were their own people.

Rex took a breath and nodded as the med droid rolled back into view, coming closer until it stopped next to the bed.

“I need to change your bandage, Co-dy 2224,” it said as it sidled closer to _Kote_ and used its metal fingers to find the ends of the gauze. The bruising running up and down the left side of his body was exposed under the med droid’s watchful, glassy eyes, and Rex was trying his best not to smile as the last of the emptiness in his eyes disappeared in a crinkle of laugh lines.

“Cody, huh?”

 _Kote_ glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. He was just happy that his brother was smiling now, in spite of everything.

After that the ridiculous name stuck, and he knew Rex was probably the one to blame.

________________________

Not long after that they were assigned to their units. Cody was handed a datapad with information about the Jedi he would be assigned to—human, though he knew some of his brothers had received extra information about their generals who weren’t. The _kaminiise_ would want them to know how to keep them safe no matter what, and that included knowing what planets and substances are harmful to any non-humans. He caught Gree collecting all the information he could find on Mirialans and their culture, researching it with the same intense fascination he had shown in their lessons as cadets. Cody also knew with bitter certainty that their _jetii_ were not given the same information about the clones. Most likely they were notified how to keep them alive through field surgery and the most basic of nutritional requirements, but he doubted the longnecks had been more considerate than that.

He read through the file and noted the details that felt relevant: his general had previous combat experience, he had an apprentice (a _padawan_ , he would later learn), and he was one of the dozen or so Jedi who had fought and survived the slaughter on Geonosis. It wasn’t until he got to the image of his general that his fingers froze on the screen of the datapad.

It was him. The _jetii_ that he had seen on Kamino with Lama Su.

 _Obi Wan Kenobi_.

The picture was taken outside the Senate: Kenobi was speaking with a senator, his hands neatly tucked together within the sleeves of his robe. He seemed more at ease than he had been with Lama Su and there was a soft look in his eyes that spoke of his familiarity with the man. With his hair dry Cody could see that it was a soft ginger. His eyes were a brighter blue than they had been when he saw them through the glass wall of the training room on Kamino.

The grace he had seen was not entirely absent in the still photo, but Cody needed to see him in action if he was to confirm his initial impressions, and so he went to the facility’s archives where they kept information on battle strategy and the histories of ancient galactic wars. He knew they kept footage there of the battle on Geonosis—ostensibly to analyze the droid’s attack formations—but he wanted to observe the _jetii_.

He found the holovid without much difficulty. He knew that many of his brothers had watched the footage as soon as it had been sent to Kamino: the clones who had stayed behind were desperate for information, but those who had been part of the battle did not wish to relive the chaos.

Cody needed to know. He needed to know how his general fought when there were more lives at stake than his own.

The footage was grainy and colorless, pulled from security monitors around the arena, and even though he could not see his general’s ginger hair, he found him easily in the crowded arena. He was dispatching droids in quick, efficient movements, deftly stepping from move to move with little flourishes of his lightsaber.

Cody couldn’t tear his eyes away from the holovid. An unfamiliar warmth settled beneath his breastbone when he saw Kenobi kneel down to check on a fallen _jetii_ and feel for a nonexistent pulse. When he stood again he stalked the space between his _verde_ and the droids, his whole body projecting that snarling-fierce need to _protect_ that Cody so often felt for his brothers.

Even in the dirt of an arena muddy with the blood of his friends, Cody’s general put himself between them and the danger they faced. He pushed the feeling in his chest away and acknowledged that there might (possibly) be a chance that they could work well together.

________________________________________

When he was assigned to the 7th Sky Corp, Cody spent most of the day familiarizing himself with the layout of his new ship before checking every flight deck and hangar bay to ensure nothing was out of place. There were some pieces of armor scattered around the barracks, but they were void of any personal touches. Those would appear in the following weeks as the men settled into their new home.

He affixed his armor (golden pauldrons with stripes down the arms and his rank markings on the left breast) and arranged his men into neat rows in the hangar bay as they waited to greet their new General.

He stood at attention with his helmet under one arm as a shuttle landed gently in front of them and the _jetiise_ were stepping out of it. He saw a gangly youth with a braid wearing dark robes and tabards, looking at everything with immense curiosity. Cody’s attention was quickly caught by the man behind him, though, and the familiar red-gold hair and blue eyes of General Kenobi. The _jetii_ walked purposefully but his shoulders appeared tense beneath his robe, scanning the blank helmets of the troopers until those blue eyes locked on Cody’s.

Warmth bubbled in his chest as Kenobi looked at him and Cody smothered it under the realization that his captaincy markings would make him stand out from his brothers. The first time had been a fluke, he reasoned, and Kenobi was just scanning the crowd when he caught Cody’s eye.

He stood to attention when the General began walking toward him, his padawan loping along behind. He snapped a quick salute with the arm not holding his helmet.

“General Kenobi, sir.” He nodded at the younger man. “Commander Skywalker.”

“Yes, Captain…?”

“CC-2224, sir.” He was watching closely enough to see General Kenobi flinch.

“You and your brothers don’t have… names?”

Cody hesitated for the briefest of moments before shaking his head and saying No. They did not. The _vode_ kept each other close, and even though he felt a pull to trust Kenobi, he just couldn’t forget the look in Rex’s eye when he told him that Jango had sided against his own men. He knew Kenobi had to earn his trust, and Cody would not give up on protecting his brothers that easily.

________________________

General Kenobi was not entirely what Cody had expected when he had first read his file. He was logical and intelligent and well-spoken, but Cody was frequently provided with chances to see him in a different light.

And Cody did what he had always done. He observed.

Kenobi commanded troops with ease, even asking Cody if he had any suggestions about plans and battle strategies, but often his fingers would twist and twitch behind his back where he thought no one could see them—often whenever troopers saluted him. He frequently reprimanded Commander Skywalker when he jumped into plans without thinking and disobeyed orders, something that Cody itched to do out of habit with his brothers, but he held his tongue.

There were times when Cody’s observations no longer fell under the category of “intelligence.”

Sometimes he just watched.

They regularly encountered each other in the mess hall early in the morning, each nursing a cup of caf or tea as they sat in silence at one of the tables, watching the night shift turn into day. Cody had the chance to observe Kenobi when his normally bright eyes were still glazed with sleep and his hair curled slightly just above his collar where it was damp from an early morning shower.

Whenever Commander Skywalker accomplished a particularly risky mission, or when he saved his men’s lives, Kenobi shone with a gentle sort of pride that Cody knew he would strenuously deny.

Whenever Cody brought him a cup of tea without being asked, he received a soft smile that never failed to relight that flickering warmth that lived inside his chest.

Whenever they were in battle and he saw troopers cut down by enemy fire, Kenobi’s blue eyes went a steely grey and he always redoubled his efforts to cut down the droids before they hurt any more of his men.

Whenever they were on the bridge discussing strategies, General Kenobi had a tendency to stand near him. Always within arm’s reach but never any closer. One eye on his padawan—unless he was in the hangar bay tinkering with one of the ships or the droids, which happened frequently.

Cody eventually asked him about it, one day when they were on neighboring beds in the medbay and Kenobi was pumped full of sedatives after they had been pinned by a small rockslide that fractured one of the bones in his leg, because he would never willingly lie still unless they made him.

“What do you know of the Force?” Kenobi asked after Cody brought it up, staring up at the ceiling while attempting valiantly to fight off the medication.

“Not much,” Cody admitted.

“Everyone feels different, in the Force. Your force signatures, all of your brothers feel unique.” His face had twisted into a pout and Cody fought the urge to smile. “That’s why you should really have names.”

Cody wanted to tell him in that he was right and the _vode_ had identities beyond their rank and numbers. But he couldn’t. Not yet. So, he took a breath and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from spilling secrets that were not his to tell. Luckily Kenobi hadn’t noticed as he kept talking.

“You’re like a rock in a river.”

“Sir?” Cody was beginning to wonder if they had sedated him, too. He was no fan of the medbay, but he had to pick his battles—and Helix was ruthless.

“You’re steady, Captain. You’re a calm, fixed point. It’s nice.” Kenobi’s voice drifted off and Cody assumed he had fallen asleep until he spoke again.

“Being near Anakin is like having a supernova inside my head. It’s not his fault. He’s just Anakin. But with you it’s… calm.”

Cody didn’t feel calm as he watched Kenobi finally nod off. He didn’t realize his General paid that much attention to him. He wasn’t used to being singled out for anything other than his rank and he fought the instinctive rise of panic that had been with him since Kamino. He didn’t know when he had begun to think of Kenobi as _his_ General, but he knew in his gut that he wanted to trust him.

He knew that Kenobi liked to steep the standard-issue tea for less than the recommended time because he thought it became too bitter.

He knew that Kenobi would stand in front of the holomaps with him until they both went cross-eyed with exhaustion, neither of them willing to give up on working through a strategy.

He knew that when Trapper had frozen up before a battle, Kenobi hadn’t reported it. Instead he had spoken to him softly until his hands stopped shaking, and it made something in Cody’s chest twist to see someone else looking out for his brother the way he did.

He watched Kenobi sleep on the bed, his hair was fanned out on his pillow and the blue eyes closed for what seemed like the first time in ages, and he wondered. He wondered when the urge to protect someone had felt this strong for someone who wasn’t his _vod_.

He stared at the slope of Kenobi’s jaw and the wiry ginger of his beard. He stared at the callouses on Kenobi’s fingers from wielding his brilliant blue blade in defense of his men. He stared until he fell asleep with the image of his general seared into his brain.

___________________________________

A week later they were assigned a mission to cut off a squad of tanks passing nearby that were meant to reinforce the Separatist front line. Cody and his general devised a plan that had them drawing the droids into a narrow pass and collapsing it down on top of them, but they couldn’t decide how to bait the enemy without putting more trooper’s lives in danger.

After a long argument in which Commander Skywalker argued that he belonged in the air to distract incoming vulture droids, General Kenobi was forced to grudgingly admit that Skywalker was the best pilot for the job. Cody kept his smile to himself when Kenobi looked like he physically wanted to pull the words back into his mouth, but it was too late, and the Commander was sprinting towards the hangar bay and his beloved Delta-7.

After another brief meeting they agreed that they would take a sub-unit of the 212th and set their explosives before they attempted to draw the droids out from behind defensive positions. They flew in on gunships until they were close enough to drop down near the pass. He sent Waxer in to plant the bombs while General Kenobi picked a perch high enough for a good line of sight, but before long they heard the low rumble of the tanks approaching. He called Waxer back with urgent hand signals and the rest of the men settled into position on either side of the canyon.

A dozen tanks came into sight, deactivated but pulled along in a convoy with fuel canisters trailing behind. As they drew nearer Cody signaled to General Kenobi before taking a shot at one of the droids that was shouting directions from the closest turret. Immediately the rest of the B-1s flanking the convoy sent a volley of blaster shots in their general direction, but to Cody’s dismay they appeared to be holding their position instead of approaching through the pass.

He watched in alarm as General Kenobi jumped down the cliff face into the ravine and ignited his lightsaber.

“Sir??” Cody called through his commlink, hoping his voice didn’t betray his mounting worry.

“Keep firing Captain!”

He watched as his General took the brunt of the firepower and deflected it back at the droids. His lightsaber flashed as the tanks began to slowly inch forward into the pass.

“ _Kote,_ ” he could feel Trapper’s worry from where he was crouched next to him, _ "Kaysh cabuo kaysh verde." _

It was an act of faith on his brother’s part. He hadn’t realized that the rest of the men were becoming as protective of their general as he was, but the more he thought about it the more right it felt. He reached out and squeezed Trapper’s shoulder, nodding, before raising his comm again.

“All men, concentrate fire on those tanks, and when I give the signal, blow the canyon.” Cody grabbed his ascension cable and used it to repel down the cliff until he was close enough to jump down, then ran to Kenobi’s side where he could provide cover fire from just off his right shoulder.

“Sir! You have to get out of the way, we have to detonate the bombs!” He had to shout to be heard over the blasterfire and the clanking of the droids.

“We need to keep them here, Captain! If we take them out soon enough, they won’t have time to power up the cannons and shoot our men off the cliffs.” Cody took a split second to acknowledge the fact that he had said ‘ _our men_ ,’ but it was more important that he get his general out of the line of fire.

“Please, sir!” He took a risk and laid a hand on Kenobi’s shoulder. “I am not letting you get yourself blown up!” He dropped his hand back down to his blaster as Kenobi took a deep breath, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Of course not,” he replied, but Cody saw the set look in his eyes and tried to reach for him again, only for Kenobi to raise his hand and push him some 20 feet back and away from the ever-nearing tanks. Then he redirected the next blaster bolt at one of the fuel canisters.

The explosion ripped through the nearest tank, triggering another canister that burst in a wave of heat and sparks. Then one of the bombs they’d planted earlier was set off and the entire canyon began to shake.

“General Kenobi!”

Cody tried to run back toward the tanks, but the next explosion caught him and flung him hard against the canyon wall. The sound of his helmet crunching in on itself was drowned out by the grinding of hundreds of pounds of stone as the walls around them showered rock down into the ravine. The tanks disappeared under a cloud of dust and debris, but so did Kenobi.

The ache in his shoulders where he had been thrown and the throbbing pain in his head were overpowered by his desire to get to his general. Vaguely he could hear ascension cables whirring as his men attempted to get to them, but he forced himself to walk on unstable legs to get to the pile of rubble now filling the bottom of the canyon. On his way there he saw something shining and picked it up without thinking, recognizing it after a second as Kenobi’s lightsaber. He shoved it absently into a pocket on his belt and quickened the pace until he reached the pile of rocks.

His heart unclenched inside his chest when he uncovered his general, still breathing but with a large piece of shrapnel sticking out of his torso and bruising already mottling the left side of his face. Cody shakily commed Helix and told him to prepare for an evac, then gingerly lifted Kenobi out of the wreckage. He started walking back toward the gunships with his arms full of _jetii_. His brothers’ concerned faces swam in and out of view as he heard Waxer speak from a great distance away, telling the men to make sure they deactivated any remaining droids so that they could not report their location to the Separatists.

Cody’s head was pounding and he ignored the feeling of something wet dripping down the side of his face as he tried to peer through the visor of his broken helmet. He made it to the gunship without stumbling, but once inside he collapsed onto one of the benches, still clutching Kenobi to his chest.

Despite the fact that his general was possibly concussed and bleeding profusely, he couldn’t help but take comfort in the fact that he was here and whole and warm. Cody finally passed out en route to their ship with the weight of his general holding him down like an anchor.

________________________

He awoke in the medbay sometime later. He was stripped down to his blacks and his armor was stacked neatly nearby, and though his head still hurt under the bandages, he felt marginally better than he had in the gunship.

General Kenobi was in the bed next to him—his hair was damp and he smelled sharply of bacta. A large bandage was wrapped around his torso, but he was breathing gently and the bruising on his face looked better than it had when Cody pulled him out of a pile of rubble. He managed to get upright before Helix marched up to him with a less than pleased look on his face.

“I suppose I should be happy that everyone returned in one piece, but that was a _ di’kutla _ stunt you let him pull down there.”

Cody stretched and scratched briefly at a spot on his cheek before glancing at Kenobi, the low warmth in his chest returning.

“Helix, you know damn well I don’t _let_ him do anything. He was the reason the mission succeeded.”

“ _Kote_ , you were the one who looked after us, and you taught us to protect our own. You never shown this much interest in someone who wasn’t _vode_.”

Helix sighed as he leaned in and carefully removed the bandage from his temple, tossing it in a nearby bin and inspecting the wound with a gloved hand. Cody stilled and used the moment to think about every interaction he’d ever had with the General. He was always kind, always understanding, but more than that, he had made Cody feel _valued_. He had asked for his opinion while drafting plans, and deliberately sat across from him when they saw each other in the mess hall.

He waited until Helix had moved away again before he responded quietly.

“I think he’s worth protecting.”

To Cody’s surprise, Helix smiled. “I know. You always held us so close, _ ori’vod _. We have realized that our general is worth trusting, you just had to see it on your own.”

Cody thought about it for a moment, but eventually he smiled back.

“I’m never going to stop protecting you.”

“We know that, but you don’t have to hold on so tight.”

Helix drifted over to the other end of the medbay to treat another trooper, and Cody stared at his general for a long time after.

________________________

He was cleared to leave later that day after watching Commander Skywalker pester Helix repeatedly about General Kenobi’s condition, and he debriefed the 212th before checking on the rest of the crew. When he got to the barracks he could see some of the shinies that he had taken down to the surface painting new designs on their armor, using what the men had affectionately named “212th Gold.” He left them to it as he returned to his own quarters and fell into a dreamless sleep.

By the time Cody was in the mess hall the next morning with his customary cup of caf, there was a new alert on his datapad. The cup was halfway to his mouth as he read it, and it hung there while his brain processed the message.

He had been selected for command training.

He was being asked to return to Kamino within the next standard week to begin his training. This was what he had wanted since he was a cadet, but something like melancholy invaded his mind at the thought of leaving his general and his men behind.

It was then he realized that he still had General Kenobi’s lightsaber, shoved into an ill-fitting pocket on his belt, and he got up and made his toward the medbay, reasoning that he needed to see Kenobi anyway to inform him of his impending departure. However, when he got to the medbay the general’s bed was empty.

“He’s pretty spry for a man who was impaled two days ago,” Helix informed him with no small amount of annoyance, “As soon as I told him it was the last round of bandages he bolted out of here like a startled tooka. He did say something about contacting his _jetii_ council, though.”

Cody thanked him and headed towards one of the briefing rooms off the bridge, determined to catch Kenobi before he slunk back to his rooms to avoid the medics. They nearly ran into each other when Cody stepped through the door, and he quickly straightened, helmet under his arm, in order to greet him.

“General, may I have a word?”

“Of course, Captain.” Kenobi nodded and stepped back to let Cody into the room. He was covering it well, but he moved gingerly and was trying not to flex his torso too much as he walked.

“I wanted to inform you that I have been recalled to Kamino for command training. I will be leaving on the next transport shuttle. I know the men” _our men_ “will be more than able to step up in my absence.”

Kenobi was smiling softly under his beard.

“I know. I’ve been wanting to recommend you for some time.” Cody’s stomach did a little swoop like he had missed a step on the stairs.

“Recommend me, sir?”

“Yes, you’ve proven your aptitude on many occasions: even saving my life once or twice.” Kenobi stroked his beard to cover his growing smile. “And this last mission was no different, though I’m pretty sure I am the one to blame for your injuries. I’m pretty sure that one will leave a scar,” he said, indicating Cody’s temple.

“It will just make me easier to spot in a crowd,” he responded, and hesitantly answered Kenobi’s smile with his own. His general was shaking his head now, even though he was still smiling.

“You’ve always stood out, Captain. Even on Kamino.”

“Sir?” All of a sudden Cody’s smile froze. _It wasn’t a fluke then_.

Kenobi looked bashful, and his cheeks were turning a soft shade of pink that was doing unexpected things to Cody’s heart. He stood dumbstruck for a moment before he remembered the reason he wanted to find his general. He cleared his throat and looked down, reaching into one of the pockets on his belt.

“I meant to give this back to you, sir.” He held out the hilt of the lightsaber.

“Ah, I’d wondered where it had gone,” Kenobi’s blue eyes lit up, “Thank you, Captain.”

In the moments when his general reached out to take back the weapon, Cody made a decision. He looked at Kenobi’s eyes and his still-soft smile. He looked at the way he was using his left hand as not to aggravate the wounds on his ribs that he had gotten trying to protect _their_ men.

“Actually… it’s Cody.”

Kenobi’s hand stilled on the lightsaber, and it was held suspended between them as the general’s smile turned into something blinding.

“Cody, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _kaminiise_ : Kaminoans  
>  _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ : Not gone, merely marching far away. (Tribute to a dead comrade)  
>  _Resol'nare_ : Six Actions (these are the core tenets of Mando life) a link to a place you can find these is in the Mando'a spreadsheet at the beginning of this chapter.  
>  _Rejorhaa'i ni_ : Tell me  
>  _verde_ : soldiers  
>  _Kaysh cabuo kaysh verde_ : He protects his soldiers.  
>  _di'kutla_ : stupid  
>  _ori'vod_ : big brother
> 
> Imagine my surprise when I researched the 212th and found out that Helix is an entirely fan-created clone- many thanks to his creator [SWModdy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWModdy/pseuds/SWModdy). And yes, I benched Cody for the First Battle of Geonosis but I couldn't think of a logical reason that Rex would have been there when he wasn't.


	2. Cody Reunites with the 212th (And Obi Wan, Of Course)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: The Author gets emotional about the clones.
> 
> The feedback for this fic has been amazing and lovely and I might have cried while looking at the amount of subscriptions and while reading the comments (I wanted to respond to them all but all I could think to say was "Ohmygod thankyouthankyouthankyou" and that might have gotten repetitive. It doesn't mean I feel it any less, though)
> 
> REMINDER: hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words that I have already defined in earlier chapters or which are used frequently) For people on mobile I kept all the translations in the endnotes as well.

When he returned to Kamino for command training, Cody found that a _jetii_ named Shaak Ti had taken over the training of the cadets now that they were officially at war. She was a tall togruta woman with a beaded headdress and subdued brown robes. She appeared to be distrustful of the _kaminiise_ and Cody watched her around the cadets the first week, but she was soft spoken and often treated them with a respect that was uncommon on Kamino. He grew to appreciate the kindness she showed the clones that he himself did not recall receiving.

Cody was overjoyed when he found Rex waiting for him in the dormitory on his first night back, and he barely restrained himself from bruising his brother’s ribs with the force of his hug. He settled for holding him at arms’ length and inspecting him critically for any sign of injury.

“You stayed in one piece, then?”

Rex laughed and flicked Cody’s eyebrow and the scar that snaked around it. “It’s more than I can say for you, your _ baar’ur _ must have his work cut out for him.”

Cody let go of his brother with a smile. “You don’t know the half of it. But what are you doing here?” Rex puffed out his chest in a move Cody could only describe as preening.

“Captaincy training. Remember that senator I told you about on Geonosis? She recommended me.”

They wouldn’t have training together, but they would be able to talk between sessions, and Cody could keep an eye on his little brother in the meantime.

He was pleased to find out that Gree was in command training as well, and he got to know some of the other Commanders better while he was there. Cody knew Wolffe by reputation in his cadet days—he was another clone their trainers had praised for his “ruthless efficiency”—and after he met Bly, he was impressed by his levelheadedness and loyalty.

The training lasted about three months, and the time spent away from the 212th was beginning to weigh on him. Surprisingly, he began to gravitate toward General Ti the longer he was on Kamino. He asked her questions about the Jedi order, and she seemed pleased with his curiosity, inviting him to her quarters after training sessions for longer conversations.

She told him what she could about the dark side and the light, about their Code, and Cody was puzzled by their non-attachment rule, even though he could, logically, see the rationale behind it.

He had known _vod_ who had volunteered themselves for missions that they knew they would not return from, and he had let them go, hating himself but knowing that it would save the lives of so many more.

But he also knew that when you were pinned down by enemy fire in some muddy trench on a backwater world, the last thing on your mind was the fate of the Republic. Instead, the most important thing was the fate of the _vod_ sitting next to you in that trench.

His love for his brothers, his instinct to protect his general, was sometimes the only thing that got him to the other side of a battle.

Cody told General Ti that he didn’t know how _not_ to be devoted to his brothers, and she merely gave him a small, sad smile.

He surprised her one day when he asked about force signatures. She had offered him a cup of tea (fully steeped with a dash of sweetener) that he had politely declined, feeling appreciative that she had even asked. She looked at him curiously as she poured a cup for herself and held it carefully between her long fingers.

“Who told you about force signatures?”

“General Kenobi, sir.” Cody hesitated, “Though he was highly medicated at the time.”

She smiled and took a sip of her tea, the beads on her headdress swaying with the motion. “What else did he tell you?”

“He said that everyone feels different in the force… even us clones.”

Cody had been carefully studying the durasteel tabletop, knowing that, as much as General Ti appeared to dislike the Kaminoans, she still had the authority to report him and he would be subject to whatever punishments they saw fit. But when he looked up, she was still smiling, her tea sending gentle swirls of steam into the air.

“He told the truth. You and your brothers each feel unique to someone trained to look through the force. It does not matter that you were created to be identical—the variations in your eyes or your hair or your fingerprints are only the physical signs—none of you live identical lives, no matter how much the Kaminoans try to make you. What we feel in the force only confirms this.”

Cody felt unusually choked up, and the general averted her eyes, raising her tea to her lips again as he worked around a lump in his throat. He suddenly wished he had accepted the cup of tea just for something to occupy his hands.

“The Kaminoans attempt to weed out… differences.”

Cody saw something in General Ti’s eyes go hard and her grip on her cup tightened. “The Kaminoans are obsessed with their “perfection.” There’s a reason the force moves through all of us and not a single planet or species. Your differences are not things to be eradicated.”

He fiddled with the seams of his gloves as he forced himself to look up into her eyes. “Thank you, General Ti,”

She shook her head softly.

“You have nothing to be thankful for, Commander. I speak only the truth.”

________________________

During the third month, General Ti gathered the handful of commanders and captains who were nearing the end of their training to give them their assignments. Cody and Gree were being sent back to their units in the 212th and the 41st, but the rest of them were being reassigned.

Wolffe was being sent to the 104th Battalion with General Plo Koon, who General Ti informed him was warm and respectful towards his men. Wolffe accepted this information with nothing more than a resolute nod, but Cody saw his posture soften slightly.

Bly was assigned to General Secura of the 327th Star Corps and General Ti vouched for her dedication. Bly asked about his general’s fighting style and tactics, and she answered as best she could, watching with a gleam in her eyes as he took notes.

“Captain Rex,” General Ti said, turning to him, “You are being assigned to General Skywalker and the 501st Legion.”

“ _General_ Skywalker, sir?” Cody asked.

“Yes, Skywalker was knighted by the Jedi Council 2 months ago.” General Ti gave him a significant look but he could tell she was hiding a grin. “I am assuming you can fill your brother in on what to expect. In fact, you and Captain Rex will be departing together, as the 212th and 501st are stationed together while General Skywalker takes command of his new flagship.”

Later that night Rex came up to him in the dormitory and asked what she had meant.

“Skywalker is… an interesting CO,” Cody conceded.

Rex scrutinized him before leaning in close and looking him in the eye. _ "Tion'solet buruk ni kar'taylir?” _

_ “Nayc, kaysh atin bal nehutyc, al kaysh ruusaanyc.” _As much as Skywalker was impulsive, he was loyal to a fault. He and Rex would get along well.

Cody just wasn’t sure if that would be cause for celebration or headaches.

________________________

The day they were due to be picked up, Cody spent the morning painting his new armor with a scavenged pot of 212th Gold. He had picked out a new vibroknife and strapped it to his belt, and the visor on his helmet was now painted to match his new stripes. He was eyeing the jetpack on a nearby table when Rex walked in, helmet under his arm and decked out in new blue paint to match the 501st.

“Well you look sturdy under all that _ beskar'gam _,” Cody said, walking up to him and poking at the reinforced pauldron. Rex snorted.

“After all that I’ve heard about General Skywalker, I thought it best to be prepared.”

“It definitely won’t hurt.” He turned back to the table and picked up the jetpack. “What do you think of this?”

“I don’t think it goes with my outfit,” Rex responded, smiling.

“We can fix that.” They both turned to see Waxer walk into the room, “A little bit of blue paint and we’ll have you matching in no time.”

Cody was happy to see his Lieutenant, but he was surprised when Waxer and Rex shared a smile and a quick handshake.

“You know Rex?”

Waxer let go of Rex’s hand and nodded. “We used to be in the same training cycles until he rose through the ranks and got transferred.” Cody didn’t imagine the grin that Waxer shot in his direction, but he also didn’t suppress the pride he felt for Rex’s success.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t supposed to arrive for another few hours.”

“That was the plan, but we got in early.”

It was then that Waxer’s comlink lit up with an incoming message. He tapped it, and General Kenobi’s voice filled the air.

“Waxer, have you found the Commander yet?” He smirked at Cody before he responded.

“Yes sir, him and Skywalker’s Captain. I can bring them back to the hanger now if you like.”

“Help them gather everything they need first, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

Rex stared at the comm on Waxer’s wrist for a moment before he looked up, something calculating in his eyes. “He knows that you have a name, _and_ he actually uses it?” He turned to stare at Cody. “Did you know about this?”

Waxer’s smirk grew wider as he glanced over. “Actually, _Kote_ here was the first one to tell the General his name.”

Cody studiously ignored Rex’s look of surprise as he set the jetpack back down on the table and fiddled uselessly with the lid of the paint jar.

“He remembers all of them, doesn’t he.”

Waxer’s expression softened and he shifted the weight of his helmet against his hip. “He does. I haven’t told General Skywalker about your name, Rex, because that should come from you. But I can tell you that he would use it if you gave it to him.”

Rex appeared to consider this while Cody gathered his now-dry armor and methodically began reattaching the pieces to his blacks. He had just finished putting on the chestpiece when Waxer indicated the new starburst painted in gold on its front.

“You’ve added some details! It took you long enough.”

“Yeah, well,” Cody shrugged, “I started missing the sunshine out on this rock, now I’ve always got it with me.”

“And you painted your helmet to match?” Waxer was peering at the gold marks on the bottom of his helmet with a strange look on his face. Rex glanced at them both curiously before looking down at his own armor.

“Before we go, I need to get my pistols from my bunk,” he said, turning away from them and heading out the door. Waxer straightened up and watched him walk away as Cody lifted his helmet from the table, but his face lit up as soon as Rex was out of earshot.

“You painted the helmet to match the chestplate?” He said in voice that was far too casual for Cody’s comfort.

“Yes.” He kept his expression neutral as he turned his back to Waxer and took a step in the direction of the door, but Waxer kept talking.

“Because it looks to me like you wanted-“

“ _Waxer_ ”

“-to match General Kenobi’s beard.”

Cody’s back stiffened and he pushed down the blush creeping up his neck, studiously ignoring the way Waxer’s shoulders were shaking with laughter as he kept moving toward the door. He knew as soon as Rex got wind of this, he would never let him live it down. He was suddenly very glad they had been assigned to different units.

________________________

Rex caught up with them on their way to the main docking bay as he adjusted his new kama and straightened the twin holsters on his hips. The three of them marched into the hangar and headed for the transport ship at the far end. Cody saw his general’s ginger hair amid a small knot of troopers, speaking animatedly with General Ti.

Oh. His general had cut his hair.

He suddenly wished that he could shove his helmet onto his head, but at that moment Kenobi’s blue eyes locked on his and the warmth he felt around his general began to rekindle in his chest. Cody didn’t realize how much he had missed it. He stopped in front of them and stood neatly to attention.

“General Kenobi, General Ti, General Skywalker.” Each of them nodded in acknowledgement, and Cody saw that Skywalker no longer had his braid and his hair had grown out a bit, just beginning to curl around his ears.

Rex stepped forward to stand level with him and snapped a salute.

“General Skywalker, sir.”

The man in question looked at him curiously before holding out a hand in greeting. “Captain…?”

He could feel Rex thinking hard for a moment before he squared his shoulders and clasped his general’s hand firmly.

“Rex, sir.”

Cody smiled to himself and turned back to General Kenobi, noticing that he had the look in his eye that he always got whenever he was proud of Skywalker but didn’t wanted to show it. Cody had always thought that he was rather bad at trying to hide it.

Oh, but now Cody could see that his beard had been neatly trimmed in a way that accentuated the line of his jaw and framed his lips. When Kenobi turned those blue eyes in his direction, he could see them trace the scar at his temple, and Cody returned the favor by sweeping the length of his body to check for injuries (an instinct he knew he should get back into the habit of using).

General Ti cleared her throat nearby and Cody and Rex snapped to attention.

“I will leave you gentlemen to it. Obi Wan, it is always nice to see you. You too, Anakin.” She smiled at Cody and Rex before turning away, taking the troopers with her.

General Kenobi gestured for them to follow him and they piled into the transport shuttle.

“Captain Rex, I hope you will be alright spending a night in the barracks of my ship until we can drop you and Anakin off at yours.”

“Of course not, General.”

Skywalker and Kenobi took the pilot and copilot seats while Waxer and Rex settled into the chairs near the radar and comm equipment. Cody fell into place standing just behind his general, and it felt a bit like coming home.

________________________

Cody and Rex made their way to the mess hall after they debriefed in the ship’s hangar bay. There were a couple of troopers milling about but they were primarily alone as they received portions of a flavorless stew and took their seats at the nearest table.

They sat there and ate in a rare moment of silence until suddenly a blue and silver astromech droid barreled into the room, screaming loudly. It ran into Rex’s legs at full speed and nearly sent them both sprawling to the floor. There was a loud ‘clunk’ as something fell from the astromech’s claw, and Rex picked up a cybernetic arm threaded with gold circuits.

“That looks like General Skywalker’s arm,” Cody said, leaning in to look at it. He glared at the astromech, who was hiding under the table behind Rex’s legs, but it rolled out in order to yell at him in a series of angry beeps. Rex examined the arm closely, clearly impressed with its construction.

_ "Kaysh gotal ibic?" _

_ "Lek, kaysh ori’jate gaan-mirdala." _ Cody wondered if some of Kenobi’s faith in Skywalker had rubbed off on him, but he could admit that the former padawan was gifted when it came to working with his hands.

Cody took both of their empty trays and stood up from the table. He eyed the droid suspiciously, then he nodded at the prosthetic in Rex’s hands, “Let’s return that to General Skywalker before he tears the ship apart looking for it.”

They made their way back to the bridge with the astromech following closely behind, and they could hear an argument ensuing between Skywalker and Kenobi as soon as the doors slid open. Skywalker was gesturing emphatically with his left arm, the sleeve of his robe hanging loose on the right.

“No, I didn’t lose it, I set it down so that I could check the neural interfacing and when I turned around to get my toolkit, it was gone.”

They stepped into the room unnoticed and, out of the corner of his eye, Cody watched Rex glance between the prosthetic in his hand and Skywalker several times before his face went carefully blank. Cody knew that look: his brother was about to do something impulsive.

He retracted his earlier relief at their assignments and wished instead that he could strap Rex down on a bed in the medbay so that he could keep an eye on him. He wondered vaguely if he could convince Helix to do it.

“General Skywalker?”

The men looked up abruptly and Skywalker focused on Rex. “Yes, Captain?”

He stepped forward and held out the arm so that the hand was outstretched toward its owner, his face was still expressionless.

“Would you like a hand, sir?”

General Skywalker stopped in his tracks and stared at him, startled and stunned. Cody was gritting his teeth and praying for anything that might require his immediate attention (perhaps the astromech would start screaming again) when he heard a noise that made him look around.

General Kenobi was _laughing._

His eyes were sparkling and his hand was in front of his face to hide his toothy grin, but his shoulders were shaking as he beamed at Skywalker and Rex. Cody felt in that moment he would ask Rex to make stupid, impulsive jokes every day if it meant getting to see his general like this.

He could feel a blush working its way up his face and he fought to keep his expression neutral, even as he looked at Rex bemusedly. Skywalker was grinning as well and he took the arm back with a loud, barking laugh, reaffixing it inside his sleeve while shaking his head.

“Where did you find this, Rex?”

“This droid had it, sir,” he said, gesturing to the astromech, who appeared to be sulking by the door. Skywalker’s grin faded as he glared at it, and the droid straightened up on its stubby little legs and glared back.

“He did, huh?”

Kenobi looked amused, though by then he had stopped laughing. Cody glanced between Skywalker and the astromech, “You know this droid, sir?”

He huffed a laugh, “R2 is mine, and he should certainly _know better_.”

Kenobi made a noise from behind his former padawan and he received a withering glare that had absolutely no effect. “Why? Do you teach him manners when I’m not around?”

“Either way, he has some explaining to do.”

The droid rolled up to Skywalker, beeping angrily, it even tapped its front wheel in what was clearly meant to be a threatening gesture.

“I know, I promised you a new hologram projector,” General Skywalker admitted grudgingly, still glaring at the droid.

Another series of angry beeps and whistles.

“No, you can’t hold it hostage until I fix it!”

Kenobi chuckled and gestured for the two of them to follow him out of the bridge, leaving Skywalker and his droid to argue. He turned to Rex once they were out of earshot.

“R2-D2 is just as headstrong as his master, but he is incredibly loyal. I feel like the three of you will get along well.”

He smiled and cut his gaze back to the door, leaning toward Rex conspiratorially. “However, when he is in a mood, I suggest you advise your men to watch their ankles.”

________________________

The next day, Cody said goodbye to Rex and Skywalker when they pulled alongside _The Resolute_ , and he and his general saw them off with identical looks of pride. After they both avoided Waxer’s helmeted (but still judgmental) gaze they settled back into a routine that, were it not for the ongoing war, felt almost normal.

They continued to see each other in the mess hall in the early morning, and they took to discussing what they knew of the movements of other units in the field. Cody told himself that it was only about strategy, but he knew that General Kenobi liked to keep tabs on his fellow _jetii_ just as he did his brothers.

Kenobi always used their names and titles, and he never forgot any of the troopers that fell in battle. Mando’a became more popular around the ship once they realized that they wouldn’t be reported for it, and they began to differentiate themselves more and more from the sterile regimentation they had grown up with on Kamino.

The clones were not paid anything for their part in the GAR—trading off a supply of warm bodies for rations and a roof over their heads—but many brothers (Cody included) took advantage of the scant shore leave they got to take bets on card games, arm wrestling matches, anything they could use to scrape together a small amount of credits. Within the GAR, it was a barter economy, but they could use their funds to buy small things when they were on-world: tins of hair dye, packets of spices to make their rations more palatable, little ornaments of colored glass that hung in the barracks and sent lights dancing across the bunks at night.

Cody knew that a group of men in the 501st had pooled their funds to buy a tattoo machine that was getting quite a bit of use, and that the 104th had bought cans of non-regulation paint and decorated their gunships with murals.

He never sought out much for himself, but when one of their missions included a stop at a trading post, Cody used the opportunity to commission an armorer to make him a holster for his belt that could accommodate a lightsaber. Not that he told the man what it was for—but after two recent missions left Cody carrying the weapon when he didn’t have a free pocket to hold it, he decided that it would simply be practical.

While he waited for the armorer to finish, he came across a vendor selling sachets of tea. And after asking some questions he came away with a small tin that he tucked into a pouch on his belt.

His general deserved something, he reasoned. It wasn’t a gift, merely a temporary upgrade (if the standard-issue tea was anything like the caf). It was something General Kenobi would appreciate; it didn’t matter who it came from. It certainly wouldn’t matter if it was Cody.

He retrieved his holster from the armorer and immediately affixed it to his belt, tossing the man his credits and heading back towards the docking bay where their shuttle waited to take them back to the ship. He was herded onto the transport by the harassed-looking hangar attendant and soon they were on their way back. He looked over the shinies that had come with him for any signs that they had been roughed up by the locals, but they looked in good spirits. One of them (Cookie, if memory served) was cradling an exotic fruit in his hands and studying it intently.

When they docked on _The Negotiator,_ Cody stopped by the bridge to report in and get any updates that might have missed while on-world. He was handed a new set of datapads with material for him and General Kenobi about their next assignment, and he skimmed the information he needed before packing them into a small crate, carefully pulling the tin of tea out of the pouch on his belt and placing it inside as well.

He found General Kenobi leaving one of the briefing rooms and quickly called out to get his attention.

“General Kenobi! I have the updates for the next mission.” He tried to maintain his usual neutrality as he handed over the crate.

“Thank you, Commander,” his general said as he shifted the weight of the crate into one arm and sifted through the datapads with the other. When he got to the tin of tea he paused, a strange look on his face.

“What’s this?”

“That is also for you, sir.” Cody turned before his face could give away the fluttering in his stomach as he watched his general study the tin curiously. “I should go check on the men.”

Cody saw Kenobi look between him and the tea with something soft on his face.

“Of course, Commander.” And when he said it, his voice was soft too.

________________________

The next morning General Kenobi was already in the mess hall when Cody walked through the door. He watched as Cody got a cup of caf from the machine, then walked over to him. Kenobi was sitting on one of the benches, his legs tucked up underneath him and his head tilted back to rest on the wall. His hands were curled around a cup of tea that smelled significantly better than the standard-issue fare.

Cody dropped into the seat across the table and turned so that his back was to the wall as well, right hand holding his caf as it rested on the table. They sat in silence. Other troopers began to trickle into the hall after a while, and the two of them watched Cookie as he carefully sliced his fruit and passed it around to a handful of curious clones.

After a wave of laughter had died away, Kenobi broke the silence, not looking at Cody.

“The Jedi are not meant to be generals. We were trained to be peacekeepers. I was unprepared to take the lead in this war—which I believe you have noticed. I have no love for what The Republic has forced you and your brothers to do. You deserve better than this life as… cannon fodder. When we were made generals, I could not see how I was meant to reconcile those ways of peace with the fight they asked us to lead. I still don’t. I am sorry Cody. I wish that I could do more for you and your brothers.”

Cody had to strain to hear the end of the sentence. Kenobi had dropped his gaze to his hands, his thumb carefully tracing the rim of the teacup in a way Cody would describe as remorseful. He took a sip of his caf and looked out at Cookie and his friends smiling at their fruit, feeling a sudden _ache_ flare up inside his ribs.

His brothers should be allowed to visit a market without being dependent on the movements of a galaxy-wide conflict.

His brothers should be allowed to walk down the street without the stamp of the Republic’s war machine on their backs, the gazes of the population turning wary because, to them, the face of a clone announced their proximity to war.

Cody looked at his general, who was still staring into his tea. He had a feeling that Kenobi knew what he was thinking, and so when Cody spoke it was gentle.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say that we knew every single risk going into this war, but we have come to understand them. It doesn’t mean I like what my brothers have been put through, but you have done nothing but make us feel like people, and that is something I will never forget. I was well aware that we had the potential to be placed under a commanding officer that treated us like the property the Kaminoans had trained us to be—which I think you noticed, too.

“You are a good general, sir. And it is _because_ you were a peacekeeper that you are willing to see us as people. I have come to realize that the best thing you have done is to continue being a peacekeeper during this war. I threw myself into leadership because I thought I could keep my brothers safe, and I will never stop trying to do so, but along the way I have also realized the importance of keeping them human.”

Kenobi still wasn’t looking at him, but he knew the general had heard every word. Cody let him sit in silence for a moment before reaching over and settling his hand on Kenobi’s robed shoulder. The move he made wasn’t strong enough to be called a flinch, but he made no effort to shake Cody off.

He let his hand linger, the heat from his palm soaking into Kenobi’s robes as they sat with their drinks, and watched their men, and contemplated the war and their place in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Baar'ur_ : medic  
>  _Tion'solet buruk ni kar'taylir?_ : How much danger should I expect? (Lit: How much danger am I to know?)  
>  _Nayc, kaysh atin bal nehutyc, al kaysh ruusaanyc_ : No, he's stubborn and gutsy, but he's trustworthy  
>  _beskar'gam_ : armor  
>  _Kaysh gobal ibic?_ : He made this?  
>  _Lek, kaysh ori’jate gaan-mirdala._ : Yeah, he's an excellent mechanic. (Lit: hand-smart, there is a word for engineer in Mando'a but I didn't think it quite fit the piecemeal education we know Anakin had)
> 
> Rex's excellent pun was inspired by [this post](https://obiwanbitchobi.tumblr.com/post/617862573470171136/the-first-time-it-happens-rex-hands-it-back-with-a)
> 
> The next chapter is going to be Obi Wan's POV because, as much as I love Cody looking at Obi Wan and going "Wow, beautiful and mesmerizing Jedi," I am a grade-A slut for Obi Wan looking at Cody and going "Fuck, he's hot AND competent"


	3. Obi Wan gets thrown into a war and meets his Commander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again a huge amount of thanks to everyone who has subscribed or left kudos or written comments (so many lovely comments) or heck just read this damn thing, the feedback has been better than I could have hoped and lots of love to you all

“Generals?”

Obi Wan hadn’t known how to react when he was first told the Jedi would be playing a personal role in the Clone Wars. It went against everything they had been trained to be. Not only were they to be directing battalions and legions, when before they had moved solely in pairs or small groups, but they were willingly engaging in conflicts when they had always preached violence as a last resort.

But the more he thought about the clones and the horrible truth of their creation, the more he knew that there were people willing to treat them like the property the galaxy saw them as. He resolved to treat them no differently than when he worked alongside soldiers in his padawan days.

He and Anakin were given command of the 7th Sky Corp, but he would be working primarily with the 212th Attack Battalion alongside Clone Captain CC-2224. The longer he stared at the lists of numbers where there should be names, the more unsure he became that his effort alone could right this terrible wrong.

He didn’t recognize the picture of CC-2224, the captain did not have any variation in eye or hair color, and he wasn’t able to read his force signature from a holo alone, but all the reports described him as efficient and capable. Obi Wan was somewhat relieved but he swore that, no matter how unprepared he felt to lead a battalion, he wasn’t going to let himself become dependent on his Captain.

This feeling became harder to fight after he actually met CC-2224.

When he walked off the shuttle and into the hangar bay to meet his men, he only partially heard Anakin commenting on the AT-TE’s lined along the far wall because he was suddenly hit with a familiar force signature. An anchor in the shifting tide of the force that eddied and swirled around the crowd of troopers. He locked eyes with his Captain across the room.

Oh, but he _did_ recognize him.

Obi Wan remembered his first visit to Kamino, when he was soaked and confused and had just discovered the existence of an entire army that had been commissioned by the _Jedi_ that no one seemed to know about. Lama Su walked him through the facility and described their process with cold, clinical precision. They had been passing a training room when he felt an intense wave of calculated curiosity sweep over him in the force, and he locked eyes with one of the troopers. The clone’s face was a mask of vague surprise, but his curiosity was still focused squarely on Obi Wan.

It felt rather like being in the beam of a spotlight, focused and steady. Lama Su was still talking somewhere to his left as they continued down the hall, and the part of his brain that registered his words quickly became agitated at their callousness. Obi Wan pulled his gaze away from the clone and skimmed the other faces in the training room, but none of the other men were focused on him with the same degree of intensity. Lama Su walked them further down the hall and he lost sight of the training room and all of the men inside.

The same pull drew him now to the trooper he knew was his captain, CC-2224.

He gestured to Anakin and the two of them headed over to greet him, that focused gaze once again fixed on Obi Wan, though it felt slightly muted as CC-2224 snapped to attention and saluted them both. Obi Wan wanted to grimace at the display even though he knew that it had been drilled into the men since birth.

Obi Wan may have flinched when he heard the captain introduce himself by number, but he also noticed a miniscule moment of hesitation before CC-2224 told him that they didn’t have names.

It made sense. He had no reason to trust Obi Wan, but he would not alienate the captain by pushing him on the matter. He admired the sheer amount of protectiveness that he felt from CC-2224 that ran beneath the curious observation. He took notice of the way the captain stepped forward, out of line from his brothers, in a way that was meant to draw any attention from them to him.

Obi Wan studied CC-2224, on-duty and off. The file was more than accurate; his captain was methodical and observant and clever. He did everything he could to protect his brothers, spending long hours discussing strategy in order to carry out their missions with the minimum amount of risk.

CC-2224 was the best in his unit at hand-to-hand combat.

He liked his caf black, always trying to drink it when it was still too hot and wincing when it burned his tongue.

He maintained a neutral expression most of the time, but he softened around his brothers.

Gradually, he softened around Obi Wan, too. His focused intensity remained, but it had _warmed_ the more they worked together, and it was hard for Obi Wan to resist falling into his steady orbit.

________________________

After a mission went awry, he was forced into the medbay by a very insistent captain. As he lay on the bed, he tried not to outright reject the sedatives with the force. He made himself lie still, the medication fogging his mind as he watched the medic carefully applying bacta to a scrape along the back of CC-2224’s shoulder, and his thoughts wandered beyond their usual polite interest.

Obi Wan took in his captain’s cropped black hair, his bright amber eyes, and the line of his shoulders as he yielded to the attention of the medic. The longer he stared, the more the he began to realize that his captain was quite handsome. It wasn’t a new thought, but the fuzziness invading his mind made it harder to suppress. He wondered what it would be like if, when they were up late discussing strategy around a holoprojector, he leaned toward his captain instead of away.

Even though the muddled part of his brain wasn’t concerned in the least with the way he was ogling his captain, the more rational part urged him to stop before he became too obvious.

It was at that point he realized CC-2224 had asked him a question. He stared for a moment before tearing his eyes away with tremendous difficulty and rolling on the bed to stare at the ceiling. His captain had asked about his unusual proximity, which meant _he had noticed._

Obi Wan studied the ceiling intently to prevent his face from flushing the way it desperately wanted to. He never wanted to lie to his captain, but he felt that, in this instance, it would have done more harm to tell him the entire truth, so he described the feeling he got in the force in order to avoid examining his emotions.

The rest of the conversation became blurred after that point as he succumbed to the sedatives.

________________________

A week later, when he saw the convoy of tanks fail to take the bait on their mission, his mind was suddenly filled with visions of his men getting shot down after leaving their defensive positions to draw out the droids. He made his way down the cliffside instead, knowing that he would make an attractive target, and heard his captain over the comms calling for him. Obi Wan felt waves of concern from CC-2224 as he drew the tanks toward them through the canyon.

And then his loyal, stoic captain was there with him on the ravine floor, firing his blaster with vicious precision and asking him to withdraw for his own safety. CC-2224 put his hand on Obi Wan’s shoulder and said “ _Please, sir,”_ and he desperately wanted to obey. But first he needed to get their men out of harm’s way.

He needed to take the tanks out _now,_ and because he knew CC-2224 wouldn’t order the men to trigger the explosives while he was still in the canyon, he would have to do it himself. He eyed the fuel canisters and made up his mind, but his captain was still too close. When the gloved hand left his shoulder, he made as if to follow but instead he pushed CC-2224 back as far as he safely could before he aimed the next shot.

He was still looking at his captain when the canyon walls started collapsing down around him, and he was knocked to the ground by the explosion of the nearest tank and buried under the rockfall.

Obi Wan woke briefly to a horrible pounding in his head and something sharp wedged near one of his ribs. He could feel the soft sway beneath him that meant he was on a gunship, and there was a pair of strong arms around him. The steady warmth of his captain’s mind was muted in sleep, but he was holding Obi Wan to his chest like he was afraid to let go. _This is nice,_ he thought, _why haven’t we done this before?_ He curled closer to CC-2224 and let the pounding in his head pull him back into unconsciousness.

________________________

When Obi Wan eventually came ‘round in the medbay, he felt like he had been flattened by a bantha. He recognized the lingering sliminess of bacta on his skin and looked around the medbay for any other people. The medic saw him and quickly made his way over between the rows of beds with a stern look on his face.

“General, if you even think about moving right now, I will sedate you. Heavily.”

The medic had been one of the only clones who didn’t immediately shrink from him out of respect, and Obi Wan had a feeling it had to do with the first two times he had been caught trying to avoid the medbay whilst injured.

He was able to accelerate his healing with the force—his men could not. They needed the medical supplies more than he did.

However, he could feel the gauze wrapped tightly around his middle and conceded to remaining on the bed for the time being. Then he had a thought that made him jerk upright until the scraping pain in his ribs forced him back down.

“What happened to the Captain? He was on the ground, too.”

The medic smirked lightly before responding, “He’s okay, I dismissed him about an hour ago. Apart from some bruises and a new scar, he’ll be fine. It was hard to separate you two when the gunship came in—even unconscious you were like mynocks.”

Obi Wan’s cheeks flushed and the medic’s smirk turned into a full grin as he took out a penlight and tested his eyes.

“You, on the other hand, had to go into the bacta tank for a good hour. Moderate concussion and a shrapnel wound between your bottom two ribs on the right side. You’re damn lucky it didn’t puncture a lung.

“The majority of the wound on your side has been healed but we will have to reapply the bacta a couple more times before I’m satisfied. Also, your padawan has been demanding hourly updates. Please deal with him before I do.”

He was still smiling as he pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. It appeared Obi Wan and his captain had been the only ones injured on the mission because the rest of the beds were blessedly empty.

“Please, you don’t have to stay, I’m sure there are better things you could be doing,” Obi Wan said, waving a hand dismissively.

“No better than making sure our General doesn’t try to run from the medbay the first chance he gets.” The medic settled into the chair and fixed him with a piercing stare. Obi Wan shifted under the attention, sensing the frustration and worry and feeling a momentary flash of guilt that the medic had to watch his brothers file continuously through the medbay doors, injured or unconscious or worse.

After a while, the medic relaxed his stare. “I wanted to thank you, for keeping my brothers out of the line of fire, for keeping our captain in one piece.”

Obi Wan shook his head, “It was him who was trying to keep me in one piece.”

The medic snorted, but his expression was fond. “He’s always been protective, even when we were cadets.” Then he turned pensive, “If he’s been distant it’s only because we were raised to treat mistakes like a death sentence. We knew our general had the chance of being just as bad as the Kaminoans.”

Obi Wan knew that the medic was simply stating the truth, and he bit back the urge to protest because, truthfully, he did not know every Jedi. There was a chance that he would have been right, and they would have been assigned a general who could not look further than their rank and numbers.

His fists clenched on top of the bedsheets.

“I understand, I do, but I swear I will never treat you like you’re expendable. I hope the captain knows that.”

His expression softened again, and he looked at Obi Wan with approval in his eyes. “I think he does. And if he doesn’t by now, I’ll knock some sense into him.”

Obi Wan felt a surge of fondness, and as he smiled the commlink on the medic’s wrist lit up with an incoming message. He tapped it and spoke briefly to the person on the other end, turning back to Obi Wan and rising from his chair. He grabbed one of the med kits from the wall.

“Some minor injuries on one of the training decks. I’ll be back but you should tell Commander Skywalker that you’re awake. If I come back and you’re gone, I will use my authority as head medic to give him permission to drag you back.” He snapped a loose salute and strode out of the medbay.

Obi Wan watched him go, suppressing a momentary shudder of fear when he realized the medic would be true to his word, then commed Anakin to let him know he was okay. His padawan strode into the room less than five minutes later with a relieved grin, dropping an armful of datapads onto an unoccupied part of the bed.

“I can’t believe you asked me to bring you your work in the medbay, Master. It’s the only place on the ship you actually have a sufficient excuse not to do it.” He sat down in the medic’s abandoned chair and Obi Wan could feel the tension in the force ease.

“Your aerial defense went well I assume?” He asked, taking a datapad from the pile and looking at the recent messages.

“It did. There were vulture droids in the air as soon as your unit started firing, but we took care of them easily enough.” He trailed off and Obi Wan felt a thread of concern pulled taut in the force.

“Yes, Anakin?”

“I should have been on the ground with you, Master, maybe I could have helped.”

“You were exactly where you should have been, protecting us from the air. You couldn’t have stopped me, trust me, the captain tried.”

Anakin looked up from where he was fiddling with joints in his hand, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “I was there when they brought you two in on the gunship, he tried to protect you and you went ahead anyway, didn’t you?”

Obi Wan glared at him as he felt the blush spread across his cheeks. He didn’t need to have a force bond with his padawan to read into the things he left unsaid.

_Master, you were in his lap like a loth-cat._

_You praised his competency twice last week._

_I haven’t seen you drink in the past month because I think you’re worried you’ll wax poetic about his eyes._

Obi Wan personally thought his padawan was being hypocritical, but he wasn’t going to be the one to shatter the fantasy Anakin had of keeping his marriage to Senator Amidala a secret. He busied himself with another datapad and ignored the pointed look he was still receiving.

“I’m going to recommend the captain for command training.” He knew he was digging himself deeper with Anakin, but he needed to run the idea past him before he went through with it.

Anakin grinned smugly but did seem to seriously consider the proposal. “He deserves it. If you keep pulling stunts like this, he’s practically going to be in charge of the unit anyway.”

Obi Wan smiled to himself and sent off the request on his datapad before another pressing question came to mind. “Have you seen my lightsaber?”

Anakin looked mildly outraged.

“After all of the lectures you’ve given be about mine—don’t tell me you lost it.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Obi Wan said, with a touch of petulance. “It got knocked out of my hand. I can still feel it nearby, so I expect someone picked it up while I was unconscious.”

Anakin shrugged, “Maybe they left it on the bridge?”

“Perhaps.”

A moment later the medic came back into the room and stopped at the foot of Obi Wan’s bed.

“Commander Skywalker, I am going to have to ask you to leave for now. After I change General Kenobi’s bandages I am going to make sure that he actually sleeps tonight.”

Anakin looked hesitant but he nodded and took the datapads away from Obi Wan, knowing that, if he didn’t, he would most likely use them as an excuse to keep working. Obi Wan received another searching look from his padawan before he left the medbay, and he was once again at the medic’s mercy.

________________________

The next morning, he received the last round of bandages and bacta, threw on his robes, thanked the medic profusely while citing something about giving his report to the Jedi council, and dashed out the door before he got reprimanded about being careful. He slowed down once he was around the corner, his bruised ribs protesting the sudden movement.

Even though he had primarily used it as an excuse to leave the medbay, he really did need to make his report to the council, and so he made his way up to one of the briefing rooms off the bridge. After he had finished, he almost ran into his captain in the doorway as he tried to leave.

CC-2224 had come to notify him of his appointment to command training, and the way he spoke of his brothers made Obi Wan smile. When he told his captain that _he_ was the one to recommend him for command training, he had to cover his growing grin at the dumbfounded look on his face.

Anakin was right, he did deserve it, and he studied the new scar on his captain’s face with a pang of guilt, because it was his fault that he had even been in the line of fire. When CC-2224 said he thought the scar was the only thing that made him distinctive, his heart broke a little bit. When he mentioned Kamino, Obi Wan felt a brief tremor in the force, but the captain’s face remained impassive. It passed after a moment and he cleared his throat and looked away.

CC-2224 reached into a pocket on his belt and pulled out Obi Wan’s lightsaber, and he couldn’t stop the affection that welled up in his chest as he reached out to take back his weapon… but as he did, something happened.

CC-2224 told Obi Wan his name.

The force hummed contentedly as his lightsaber was suspended between them, and the feeling in his chest swelled as he looked into his Captain’s—no, _Cody’s_ —eyes.

________________________

The day after Cody left on the transport shuttle for command training, Obi Wan was cornered in the hangar bay by the medic who wanted him to have at least a checkup before he began completely avoiding him. He buckled under the glare and followed him to the medbay for what he hoped would be a brief visit.

He was made to remove his tunics and sit on one of the beds while the medic checked the bruising that stained the right side of his torso around the still-healing scar.

“I heard the captain was sent back to Kamino for command training?” He asked, after he seemed satisfied with the condition of the wound.

“Yes, he should be back in about three months,” Obi Wan replied as he slipped back into his tunics. The medic had turned his back as he replaced bottles of bacta on their shelves, and Obi Wan knew that the rest of the clones had a right to know what their captain had entrusted him with.

“I think Cody will do well.”

The medic stilled with his hand on a hypospray. Obi Wan could tell he was surprised, but when he turned around he looked pleased.

“I’m sure he will. He was always one of the best as a cadet. And keeping you out of trouble has certainly helped sharpen his skills.” The medic had an eyebrow raised and Obi Wan tried not to be too offended, but he knew it was in jest. As he turned to go, the medic stopped him.

“By the way, we were never properly introduced, sir.” He held out a hand to Obi Wan, “My name is Helix.”

Obi Wan shook it gladly.

“It is very nice to meet you, Helix.”

After that, word spread through the barracks that General Kenobi was trusted enough to use the names the clones gave each other. Every day more troopers came up to him—some shyly and some more confident—and introduced themselves. He met his Lieutenant again, this time as Waxer. He now knew Boil and Longshot and Crys and Gearshift. He talked to “shinies” who admitted that they had yet to earn their names.

Obi Wan learned that the men called their battalion color “212th Gold” and that it was practice to embellish their armor only after they had survived their first battle. He made sure to memorize not only names but patterns on chestplates and helmets.

Then Anakin was knighted, and despite his immense pride in his padawan, Obi Wan was alone again.

He was given almost daily updates by Waxer, who had stepped up in Cody’s absence. He even got a call one day from Shaak Ti, who he knew was on Kamino training the cadets. At first, he assumed that something was wrong, and he had to keep his mind from going immediately to his commander, but she was quick to calm his nerves.

“This is merely a social call, Obi Wan. I heard your padawan was recently knighted.”

“He was. He is now, officially, General Skywalker. Force help the galaxy.” He knew that Shaak would understand it for the fond sentiment it was, and she laughed.

“He will do well, and I look forward to hearing of his exploits. Training is going well here, despite the… indifference of the Kaminoans.” Her gaze hardened for a second before it took on a more mischievous glint. “Speaking of which, you have a singularly curious commander, Obi Wan.”

It didn’t entirely surprise him that she had noticed, but he wondered what his Commander had become interested in during his absence.

“Did you really tell him about force signatures?”

Obi Wan’s cheeks went pink. “I seem to recall a conversation where they were mentioned, though I was under heavy sedation at the time.”

General Ti laughed again.

“He told me as much. He feels very balanced in the force himself. I can understand your interest.”

“I do not recall mentioning any interest,” Obi Wan interjected, maintaining eye contact through his blush, though Shaak knew him too well to completely deceive her. “However, I was curious if you had noticed any hints of force sensitivity in the clones.”

She thought for a second before she responded, “I have felt _some_ increased sensitivity, but not enough that they would have been considered for training. It appears to manifest in increased speed, quicker reflexes, that sort of thing.”

Obi Wan knew now that many of his men had been shielding from him at first, simply out of habit and some out of fear. From what he had heard and observed about the Kaminoans, they were not ones to accept any hints of unease or disobedience—having a new commanding officer foisted upon them probably didn’t help their anxiety. Recently, though, they had let up somewhat on the shielding as they began trusting him more openly. But he had told Cody the truth: all of the clones did feel different because they _were_ different.

“I have noticed an unusually balanced force signature in CC-2224,” Shaak continued, “As well as a couple others, including one of the captains that I am quite certain will be assigned to General Skywalker.”

Obi Wan chuckled. “Good. Maybe he’ll keep Anakin relatively grounded.”

He and Shaak Ti talked for a while longer, and Obi Wan was forced to admit that there wasn’t a specific reason he was so drawn to Cody. He told himself it was probably just because he could appreciate his commander’s steady presence after being around Anakin for so long.

________________________

A month later he was reunited with his former padawan on Coruscant.

Obi Wan tried not to point out that it was highly suspicious of Senator Amidala to simply “gift” her personal astromech to Anakin, but both he and R2 seemed pleased with the arrangement, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Anakin would be with him for a few weeks until his flagship the _Resolute_ was completed. They would also both be picking up their respective captain and commander from Kamino, and Obi Wan tried not to betray the eagerness he felt to have everyone under one roof again. He and Anakin both received the updates on their men the same day, and Anakin was quickly scrolling through his captain’s file.

Even more than Obi Wan, Anakin used to bristle angrily when they first worked with the clones, drawing comparisons to his own childhood and the dehumanizing nature of slavery in the Outer Rim. More recently though, Obi Wan could feel the buzzing elation in the force whenever a clone introduced themselves to Anakin by name.

Even though would never admit it, he felt the speed of their acceptance was partially reliant on his own trust in Anakin, but more likely it was difficult for the clones to view him as a strict commanding officer when he was frequently bullied by his own droid and could often be found gossiping with the pilots in the hangar bay. In any case, he quickly became protective of the men, watching them distinguish themselves as individuals with a fierce sort of pride.

They arrived over Kamino a few hours early, and Obi Wan ignored Anakin’s smirk when he said that he wanted to take the transport shuttle down to Tipoca City in person.

“I just would like to speak with General Ti,” he said reasonably.

Anakin snorted and rolled his eyes.

When the shuttle docked, Obi Wan asked Waxer if he would be kind enough to find his commander, and the Lieutenant nodded, even though he could feel ripples of amusement from behind the helmet.

A few moments later they saw General Ti coming around a corner with a small group of troopers. She brightened when she saw them and tossed a wave in their direction. She and the troopers neared and Obi Wan could see that they were still relatively young cadets, their uniforms pressed and identical.

“Obi Wan! And is that _General_ Skywalker?” Anakin blushed slightly under the attention, but he nodded happily in acknowledgement of her praise.

Obi Wan waved back. “Shaak, it is lovely to see you as always. What are you up to on this fine morning?” In point of fact, the rain was coming down in sheets over the choppy sea outside, but she grinned at him all the same.

“I am walking the perimeter with these troopers, and you appear to be early in picking up your men. I hope you haven’t suffered in their absence.” The troopers with General Ti were looking between the Jedi curiously, and Obi Wan could practically feel the delighted smile Anakin sent her. Force damn them both.

He needed to work on controlling his ambient emotions in the force, something he hadn’t struggled with for years. He didn’t think Anakin would say anything outright because he was concerned with concealing his own relationship, and Shaak Ti leaned more towards compassion than many other Jedi he knew, but he worried about what the other masters would think. Obi Wan settled into a more neutral attitude before he responded.

“Not excessively, though we will be glad to have them back.”

Anakin introduced himself to the small crowd of cadets and invited them to ask him questions. He saw a couple of them look around for Kaminoans, seemingly startled to be addressed directly. He felt a brief wave of anger from Shaak Ti but her expression remained encouraging. Eventually one of the cadets spoke up from the back in a slightly awestruck voice.

“Are you really a Jedi, sir?”

Anakin’s smile was reassuring and a little sad, and Obi Wan was forcibly reminded of when he had asked the same question as a boy. Anakin drew his lightsaber from his belt, but instead of igniting it he suspended it in the air above his hand and it rotated slowly.

Obi Wan looked at the cadets’ faces and felt a sudden wave of melancholy.

He turned away for a moment to speak into his commlink. “Waxer, have you found the Commander yet?” Waxer sounded like he was smiling when he responded, and the tight feeling in his chest eased somewhat.

“Yes sir, him and Skywalker’s Captain. I can bring them back to the hanger now if you like.”

He didn’t want to pull them away too soon, and he shot a glance over to Anakin and Shaak Ti, “Help them gather everything they need first, but thank you, Lieutenant.”

He ended the call and stepped back into the circle of troopers. His former padawan was lecturing them animatedly about the finer points of starship handling, and so he turned his attention to General Ti.

They watched the scene for a few minutes until he leaned in and asked softly, “Have they begun to share their names, yet?” She glanced at him sharply before her expression softened.

“Some of them. The fear that those Kaminoans put into their minds,” she shook her head, lekku and beads swaying, “They think so little of their own soldiers as to stamp out their personalities.” Obi Wan could feel her force signature bristling with righteous anger before she withdrew into serenity.

Then a familiar feeling swept over him, like being in the beam of a searchlight, and he immediately looked around for a specific pair of amber eyes. He saw Cody across the hangar bay, walking toward them with a blonde man who was wearing the blue of Anakin’s new unit. Their eyes stayed locked until they were standing across from each other, then Cody broke his gaze to acknowledge Anakin and Shaak Ti. Obi Wan noticed that he was holding his breath, force signature shifting anxiously as the man next to him introduced himself to Anakin and used a name instead of a number. Then his gaze turned fond and proud like Obi Wan knew his probably was when Anakin was knighted.

Cody turned to look at Obi Wan and he could see that the scar on his left temple was completely healed. He thought it highly unprofessional to tell him it looked rather dashing, and so he kept the thought to himself. Cody’s eyes swept over him and he knew that his Commander was simply checking to make sure he wasn’t injured, but heat crept up beneath his collar, nonetheless.

General Ti cleared her throat nearby and Cody and Captain Rex snapped neatly to attention.

She said a brief goodbye (and the twinkle in her eye conveyed all the things she _didn’t_ say) before heading off with the crowd of troopers trailing behind her. He gathered up his own men and herded everyone onto the shuttle. Captain Rex appeared to have no issue with staying a day longer on his ship, and Anakin prepped for takeoff.

He felt Cody settle in behind him and he allowed himself a moment to relax in the steady pull of his force signature.

________________________

They debriefed quickly in the hangar bay after they landed and then dismissed Rex and Cody, who wandered off with Waxer for a tour of the ship. R2-D2 rolled up to Anakin and said something to him in a series of urgent beeps.

“Yeah I know, buddy, I’ll get to it,” he turned to Obi Wan and flexed the fingers on his right hand, studying the movement closely. “I’m going to take some time to recalibrate this while we don’t have an immediate assignment, you going up to the bridge?”

“I am. I’ll comm you if anything comes up.”

Anakin nodded, then gestured to R2 and they both walked out of the room. Obi Wan made his way to the top of the ship, greeting troopers along the way as they saluted him. It was something he still was not quite used to and so he tried to use their names when he acknowledged them back. He stopped quickly at his quarters and left his heavy brown robe draped over the back of the desk chair. He liked the comfort it brought in the damp Kamino air, reminding him of the first time he had visited, the memory of retreating further into his robes as Lama Su walked him down endless, twisting sterile-white hallways.

He left it behind now as he walked the familiar path up to the bridge, checking in and scanning the upcoming mission information. It was a simple supply run, and as he was looking through the files Anakin came crashing into the room. A couple of the newer tech workers jumped and looked around, but the older ones merely glanced up from their monitors and assured themselves there was no immediate danger before returning to work.

Anakin’s right sleeve was hanging loose at his side and Obi Wan raised a single eyebrow.

“My arm is gone.”

His other eyebrow joined the first.

“Gone?”

Anakin nodded.

“You didn’t get distracted by another project and wander away from it?” It was unlikely that Anakin had simply misplaced it, but Obi Wan knew that he constantly flitted from project to project and it would not be unheard of for him to get preoccupied. He heard the sound of the door sliding open somewhere to his right.

“No, I didn’t lose it, I set it down so that I could check the neural interfacing and when I turned around to get my toolkit, it was gone.”

He felt Cody’s presence in the room as Captain Rex called out to get Anakin’s attention. He turned to look at them both and saw Anakin’s arm clutched in the captain’s outstretched hand.

And then he made a joke.

And Obi Wan was so unprepared for it that he found himself laughing for the first time in months. Cody looked over and his attention curled around Obi Wan, warm and comforting. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Anakin and Rex.

Captain Rex’s file had been glowing, though some of the comments like “headstrong” and “determined” rang of vague disapproval. Obi Wan had no doubts that he was capable, but he was happy to see he possessed some levity that could work well with Anakin’s more spontaneous habits.

It turned out R2 had stolen Anakin’s arm, which did not surprise him, and he told Captain Rex as much. The next day they saw Anakin and Rex off to their new flagship, and Obi Wan could feel the pride radiating from Cody (though possibly some of it was a reflection of his own emotions).

________________________

Slowly the clones started opening up even more—he noticed new patterns on their armor, new haircuts and dye jobs, and the increasing amount of tattoos (these always occurred after they met up with the 501st and Obi Wan had a suspicion that some of Anakin’s men had gotten their hands on a tattoo machine). They were also less strict about shielding their minds, unless they were notified that their mission would cross paths with Dooku or Ventress, and Obi Wan became used to the sea of tentative sparks in the force and the feather-light brushes of their minds, like he was walking through a field of tall grass.

He noticed the barracks filling up with personal trinkets and touches that appeared after missions to trading posts and markets. Obi Wan did not ask where they got the money for these things—he trusted them to do it somewhat honestly, but he also truly did not want to know.

He witnessed conversations between clones who used _Mando’a_ phrases and glanced at him cautiously if he was standing nearby. He knew they were testing his trust in little ways to see how much they could get away with. When he said nothing they continued, grinning, and began using the language more openly around the ship.

Obi Wan thought it might have been distrustful not to admit outright that he spoke _Mando’a,_ but he didn’t want his men to go back to tiptoeing around him for fear of what they might say. He decided that, if asked, he would tell them the truth.

He still met with Cody for mornings in the mess hall, and they commiserated about Anakin—and Rex when Obi Wan found out that the two were close. He had sensed an unusually focused kind of protectiveness when they were together, and he asked about it one morning.

Cody allowed a hint of bashfulness to creep across his face when he answered. “Rex is… he’s my little brother. I’m proud of him, but he is in a unique position to get on my nerves.”

Obi Wan made a noise of agreement, and they both endured a moment of synchronized suffering and empathy.

The corner of Cody’s mouth quirked up in a smile that Obi Wan found it hard to look away from, but then he turned his head briefly to take a sip of his caf. He looked back up and his eyes skimmed over Obi Wan’s body in a move he had come to realize meant he was being scanned for injuries. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the concern.

“So,” Cody began, “you know what I was up to for the last three months, did you do anything interesting, General?”

Obi Wan delighted in the current of nonchalant teasing that ran beneath his words, and he used the same false-casual tone when he responded.

“I did not, I suppose. Though I did get unfortunately absorbed by a Gen’Dai bounty hunter.”

He suppressed the urge to smile when Cody’s hand stilled, hovering over his mug of caf.

“Absorbed?”

“Yes, well Gen’Dai are notoriously self-regenerating, you see, and completely boneless. It makes them rather… slimy.”

Cody had gotten a hand around his mug and was shaking his head with a bemused expression. “I will have to take your word for it, sir.”

They spoke more about troop movements as they finished their drinks and watched groups of men file into the mess hall sleepily. Obi Wan found himself watching his Commander as he talked, feeling his protective fondness whenever he spoke of his brothers, even as his expression remained measured and calm.

He let his eyes linger on the scar that snaked around Cody’s left temple, or the few scattered curls in his hair that had not yet been tamped down by his helmet. His amber eyes (just a shade lighter than he remembered Jango’s being) softening minutely when a trooper walked up and asked him a question. Obi Wan thanked his years of diplomatic missions for helping him keep his expression one of polite interest, but he was suddenly grateful he and Anakin were not currently stationed together. He didn’t have to focus so much on shielding when he was the only Jedi on board.

He continued to linger close to Cody whenever they were giving orders or debriefing their troops or studying holomaps on the bridge. The steady warmth of his mind made Obi Wan feel rather like a loth-cat in a sunbeam. His Commander was competent and stable, and very attractive when he allowed himself brief moments to actually think about it.

But as much as Obi Wan tried to treat them as equals, the chain of command hung over both their heads. The GAR regulations and the Jedi Code wove together a barrier that he could hide himself behind—one of the few acts he would admit to himself was rooted in cowardice.

To everyone else, he hid it behind a facade of selflessness.

________________________

A couple weeks later he found himself talking with Crys about the planet-side excursion that a handful of his brothers were on. He told Obi Wan he was hoping one of them could find the hair dye he was looking for.

“And I hope they can find something new for the kitchens, we’ve been on the same rotation of rations for the past week.”

Obi Wan was enjoying having a normal conversation with one of his troopers without the hierarchy of rank getting in the way, though he did agree that the food had been waning since they’d gone a few weeks without a visit to a market to pick up spices. He had been pleased to discover the clones had inherited the Mandalorian custom of preferring their dishes blisteringly hot, if only so he could enjoy a meal that wasn’t tasteless.

Once the clones had started becoming more sure of themselves on the ship, a few of them took shifts in the mess hall kitchens so they could create their own recipes. It was a hit, and there was a handful of troopers who took to cooking with great zeal, and they were better off for it.

After a while Obi Wan’s comm began to beep and he was summoned to a meeting by the Jedi Council. He said a quick goodbye to Crys and made his way up to the bridge. He ducked into one of the side rooms and was greeted by Masters Yoda, Windu, and Gallia. They did not appear to be immediately distressed, so he assumed a relaxed stance as he greeted their spectral blue holograms.

“Senator Organa has petitioned the Senate to lead a relief effort to Christophsis.” Windu informed him, his fingers steepled over his knees.

“Accepted his request, the Senate has,” came Yoda’s voice, “However, go unnoticed, it will not.”

“The Separatist presence is growing there. It is possible that we will need to call on you and General Skywalker to reinforce his supply ships.”

“I see. How soon is he scheduled to depart?” Obi Wan asked.

“Two standard weeks. We will keep you informed, General Kenobi.” Windu replied, nodding solemnly.

Obi Wan made a shallow bow as the holoprojector winked out and the ambient lighting filled the room. He wondered absently if the Commander had returned from supervising the trip planet-side. He would have to alert him to the possibility of an imminent assignment. The briefing room door opened with a hiss and walked into the main room, turning to make his way down to the hangar bay.

But there was Cody, he felt the warmth of his presence right before his name was called, and his Commander was walking towards him with a crate full of what looked like datapads. His usually warm force signature felt oddly anxious though, like water brought to a boil, but Cody’s face betrayed no hint of his feelings as he passed over the crate.

There, tucked in next to the datapads was a small tin. Obi Wan looked at it curiously, asking Cody about it.

“That is also for you, sir” he answered quietly. He had turned his face away so Obi Wan could not see his expression, but the anxiety lingered in the force.

He turned the tin in his fingers until he saw a label he knew belonged to a brand of tea sold in this system. Still turned away, Cody excused himself to check on his brothers, and Obi Wan responded automatically.

After Cody had walked away, he was still staring at the little tin of tea.

He vaguely remembered making his way back to his quarters with the crate in his arms, and he set it on his desk once he was inside. He took out the tin and looked at it again—it _was_ tea. His immediate reaction, drilled into him from a lifetime in the Jedi Order, was that it was a frivolous expense, but he had become more adept at ignoring those thoughts since the war began.

However, his misgivings were quickly drowned by the tide of emotion that was _his Commander giving him a gift._

Cody hadn’t made a big deal of it, and Obi Wan would follow his example, if only because he didn’t want his reaction to expose the increasingly frequent thoughts he had about his Commander. That he was capable and brave and loyal, and Obi Wan was afraid of just how crucial he was becoming to his daily life. They sat together in the mornings and talked over drinks. They directed their troops standing shoulder to shoulder on dusty battlefields. They always found their way back to each other’s side when they were leading different arms of a battle, moving in tandem like the pincers of a great scorpion until they met with their enemies caught in between.

If he focused on his Commander’s outward proficiencies then he could pretend to ignore the more troublesome things he felt; the urge to run his fingers over the line of his jaw or the width of his shoulders, to make his eyes linger where they shouldn’t, to make his force signature spark with something other than worry.

He looked at the tea and cradled it close to his chest.

There was a hollow ache beneath his ribs as he tucked those feelings away neatly in a box in his mind, one that sat in the shadow of where the Jedi Code was seared into his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and I made it sad. sorry
> 
> But, we are finally up to the beginning of The Clone Wars timeline! This fic quickly became a monster but it's one I am excited to explore. 
> 
> This chapter also had a sprinkle of references to the 2003 clone wars microseries (which is wild and I highly recommend watching it if you haven't already)
> 
> Also, Shaak Ti is Mom and I will not be taking criticism


	4. Cody has some talks with his General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love to everyone who is reading this attempt to slap together some structure. I love each and every one of my readers and I would give you all a forehead kiss if I could.
> 
> And I have been trying to stay pretty close to TCW timeline, but referencing every episode with Cody or Obi Wan in it is tedious and I don't know if I'll end up sticking as closely as I first thought I would. I am using [this](https://ladyknightradiant.tumblr.com/post/617952171718295552/clone-wars-chronological-and-annotated) amazing google doc for my episode order.
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

General Kenobi had been oddly quiet during their supply run, and Cody had a feeling that he was fighting with himself about something. However, when he brought up his concerns one morning over their usual cups of tea and caf, it was not what Cody had expected.

“I was thinking about taking on another padawan,” Kenobi declared, after staring into his tea for an unusual amount of time.

Cody was taken aback. Though he did notice that his general seemed… out of balance for the past few days, he hadn’t been able to put a finger on why. He supposed maybe Kenobi would benefit from having another Jedi around. From what he had learned from General Ti, the _jetiise_ grew up and trained in groups just like the _vode_ , and he didn’t know how he would cope if he was suddenly cut off from his brothers.

But there was something in Kenobi’s voice that made him pause.

“Have you been thinking about this long?”

Kenobi sighed and rubbed at his beard, his shoulder’s sagging. “I have, it’s just… can I justify bringing yet another innocent into this war? I already wish you and your brothers had a choice in this, how can I make the same decision for somebody else?”

They sat in silence while Cody considered this. Kenobi had gone back to contemplating the bottom of his teacup.

“The way I see it, sir, is that if you’re actively thinking about their choices, then you are not blindly leading them into war. You have done the same for us. You’ve let us distinguish ourselves, and never concealed just how dangerous the missions were. We ran the risk of having a callous and cruel general, but you have made it your job to be kind. Don’t the padawans run the same risk? If you took a shiny jedi under your wing, then you take them away from a situation where they might not be given that same kindness.”

He saw a hint of a smile on Kenobi’s face for the first time in days, and he relaxed, bringing his caf up to his lips.

“Thank you, Cody. But this would also affect you, if only because there would be another Jedi for you keep out of trouble.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said it, and Cody resisted the urge to reprimand him about his recklessness because he knew that it would come out too fond to be sufficiently stern.

“If General Skywalker had a padawan, perhaps he would think twice about endangering himself or them. I know Rex tries but he sometimes puts more trust in his gut than his brain.”

General Kenobi had stilled with a peculiar look on his face. “He might…” He took his empty cup and stood from the table. “Excuse me Commander but I have a call to make.”

Cody watched him go and wondered if he was going to owe Rex an apology in the near future.

________________________

They were called to reinforce Senator Organa on Christophsis not long after that, and when General Skywalker took the prototype stealth ship and used it to attack the blockade instead of circumventing it, Cody recalled his conversation with General Kenobi and hoped he had seriously considered Cody’s suggestion.

However, any thought about a potential padawan was driven from his mind after they discovered that Slick had sold their strategies to the Separatists.

Cody was angrier than he could recall being in a long time.

Even angrier than when he had been forced to sit out the Battle of Geonosis. Back then, there had been nothing he could do to help his brothers because he had been injured and out of commission, this time he had been on the ground and in command and _still_ he could do nothing to prevent their deaths until it was too late.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at General Kenobi when he and Rex apprehended Slick and turned him over to their _jetiise._

Kenobi had trusted them, made them feel like people more than anyone else, and Slick had the gall to look him in the eye and say he did not understand the concept of freedom. Slick didn’t know about the nights when he and his General had stood over mission strategies, endlessly revising to ensure their men’s safety. He didn’t know General Kenobi’s constant regret over the lack of choice the clones were given in the war. He didn’t know that there were nights the General didn’t sleep and wandered the halls of the _Negotiator_ (a name that he once confessed made him cringe), trying to think of ways to be _better_.

They were trained to live and die for the Republic, he wasn’t going to deny that, but somewhere along the way Cody’s loyalties had shifted.

From what General Ti had told him of the dark side of the force, he would always stand in opposition to their hatred and greed, and he would fight on the side of the Republic in their aim to protect and provide relief to Separatist-occupied worlds.

But day-to-day?

He fought for his brothers. He fought for his General. He fought for the people trapped on those occupied planets, caught in the crossfire of a war no one deserved.

And it was the fact that Slick betrayed _them_ , not the Republic, that angered him the most.

That night he found General Kenobi hunched over the holomap in the control room. He was holding onto the edge of the holoprojector so tightly that Cody was sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. Kenobi didn’t stir when the door opened or when he walked up next to him, even though he always seemed to sense that Cody was in the room before he made himself known. Waxer had asked him about it once, and rather than revealing that his General once told him he was “… _like a rock in a river_ ,” he had simply shrugged and said it was _ jetii kebise _.

He stood next to Kenobi in the control room and watched him manipulate the map from every angle, loading little holographic images of tanks and cannons, then shaking his head and moving them to different positions. The two of them, along with Skywalker and Rex, had gone over strategies hours ago until they had formulated a rough plan with the last of the weapons Slick had left untouched.

Thanks to Slick, not only did dozens of his brothers die this morning in a botched ambush, but they couldn’t even defend themselves properly tomorrow.

Cody was pretty sure that some of his anger was contributing to Kenobi’s tenseness, thanks to however he felt things in the force, and he tried to reel in his irritation, but he also didn’t have to be a Jedi to sense the guilt coming off his General in waves.

“It’s getting late, General,” he said gently, setting his helmet on the edge of the holoprojector. Kenobi uncurled his fingers from the table and stood straighter, crossing his arms and continuing to stare at the map.

Cody stepped forward and put a hand on his General’s arm. He and his brothers were all very tactile with each other, but they generally kept their distance from General Kenobi out of respect. He liked to think that the simple touches the General allowed him to make were comforting—Kenobi did not seem to be physically affectionate with Skywalker and, as far as he could see, that the closest relationship he had.

He had seen his General flirt his way past obstacles. In fact, he had been momentarily stunned the first time he saw Kenobi drift his way up to a hostile diplomat and give them a smile that would have pacified a gundark. When he spoke to them in a voice all honey-smooth and agreeable, Cody had been immensely grateful that he had been wearing his helmet at the time so nobody could see his stupefied expression.

In their daily routine however, Kenobi typically kept to himself.

His hand was still on his General when he tried again, “You need to rest, sir, we have a rough day ahead of us.”

Kenobi took a deep breath and the arm under Cody’s hand shifted with the motion, then he leaned briefly into the touch before moving away and dropping his arms to his sides. Cody stepped back and reached for his helmet, tucking it back under his arm before following his General towards the control room door. Kenobi had his hands behind his back, his fingers twisting together tensely like they used to during the first few months of the war.

Cody stayed just off his right shoulder as they walked, following Kenobi to his quarters so he could be sure that he wouldn’t wander off to a briefing room or hangar bay in order to keep working. They stopped in front of his room and the door slid open with a soft noise. Cody made to turn away when Kenobi spoke, his voice quiet.

“Would you like to come in, Commander?”

He would have normally said no, but he saw the guilt still weighing down his General’s shoulders and nodded hesitantly. They stepped inside and Kenobi began detaching his bracers and setting them on the desk in the corner next to a stack of datapads. The chair next to the desk was buried under a pile of brown cloaks and Cody stood nervously by the wall, unsure of what he should be doing.

“Please, sit. The bed is fine.” Kenobi sounded exhausted as he pulled the chestplate over his head and set it down next to the bracers. “Would you like some tea?”

He pulled out a box and Cody could see several packets that looked like they had been stolen from the mess hall on the _Negotiator._ He also saw the little tin he had bought from the market, and he felt a contented warmth in his chest. Cody perched tentatively on the edge of the bed.

He yawned so wide that his jaw clicked and hooked his helmet on the closest bedpost. General Kenobi pulled a small electric kettle from somewhere and produced a pair of tin cups as he fiddled with the packets of tea.

“Tea this late? You need to sleep, sir.”

Kenobi huffed out a small laugh. “It’s non-caffeinated.”

Cody pondered this for a moment, his tired brain grinding slowly. “Why would they make tea without the caffeine?”

“I just like the routine of making it, but I’m fairly certain Helix got Cookie to swap out all the tea in the mess for decaf after 21:00 for this particular reason.”

Cody nodded and Kenobi poured a second cup. He handed it over and set his own down on the desk as he kneeled to take off his greaves and boots. Cody realized what was going to happen a second before it did, but he found that he was too tired to protest as Kenobi picked up his tea and sat on the bed next to him.

He shuffled until his feet were tucked up underneath him and his back was to the wall. Kenobi cradled the tea in his hands and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Cody looked away from him, his cheeks warm, and lifted his own cup of tea to his lips. But his General laid a finger on the rim of his cup and pushed it back down, eyes still closed.

“Give it a moment to cool, it’s still hot.”

Cody sighed and leaned forward, working his boots off with the hand that wasn’t holding his tea and then shifting on the bed, his armor making a soft _clunk_ as it hit the wall and his socked feet dangled over the edge. If he had been more awake he would have politely refused the invitation, but he felt drained, his lingering anger maybe the only thing keeping him upright. And it was his job to look after his General, who he knew would work himself into the ground if he didn’t get some rest.

Kenobi took a sip of the tea and Cody took that as his cue. He had tried tea before once or twice, it had never been his favorite, but he had been primarily interested in the properties of the caffeine rather than a concession to flavor. The caffeine must make a difference though, because it’s not as strong as he remembers (or, perhaps it’s just better because Kenobi actually knows how to make it) and he finds he doesn’t mind the faint, leafy taste.

They sit in silence, not touching. But less than a foot of air separates them, and Cody can feel his General’s body heat seeping across the empty space.

“Slick wasn’t wrong, you know.”

Cody sighed.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Of course, Cody.” Kenobi’s eyes are still closed but the corners of his mouth are turned down in a contemplative frown.

“Did Slick tell you he was going to sell us out to the Separatists?”

The General opened his eyes and looked at Cody, confused. “No?”

“Then you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. You couldn’t stop something you didn’t know was going to happen. And yes, we were created to serve the Republic, but you have tried so hard to give us some amount of choice.” He took another sip of the tea before trying a small grin. “If you think about it, the Jedi and the clones are both servants of the Republic, you just have a glowing sword and better accommodations.”

Kenobi smiled even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “But Slick-”

“If Slick wanted out of what he thought of as slavery, he could have deserted. He could have run off to a planet where nobody knew who he was and made his own life there. But he _chose_ to put not only the Jedi but his brothers at risk. And that is not a choice I find acceptable to make.”

The General looked pensive. “That’s the danger I suppose. When you give someone the ability to make their own choices, you run the risk of watching them make ones that are misguided.”

They sat on the bed together and Cody realized just how much of their early morning conversations were like this too. Just sitting silently. Savoring the peace and calm.

They finished their tea and Kenobi was falling asleep rapidly, listing sideways towards Cody. He drew the line at letting Kenobi sleep on the hard plastoid of his armor and took the empty cup from his hand, sliding to the edge of the bed and setting them both on the desk. He put his hand on his General’s shoulder and guided him down until he was laying on the bed.

Cody had to restrain himself from smoothing down the mussed ginger hair, and as he turned away he heard General Kenobi speak, half asleep with his voice muffled by the blanket.

“Would you choose to stay if you could, Cody?”

“I would, sir,” He said softly, picking up his helmet. _ “‘Kay ka’ra drashaa ciryc.” _

Cody dimmed the lights and walked out into the corridor, letting the door slide shut behind him.

________________________

The next day they fought on Christophsis, and a padawan arrived with one of their gunships, claiming to be assigned to General Skywalker. Cody couldn’t help but wonder if General Kenobi was somehow involved in the “mixup.”

He saw Rex in passing and made a vague apology. Rex stared at him for a moment before glancing over to where Skywalker and Tano were arguing.

“Did you have a hand in this?”

Cody walked away, chuckling.

 _ "Haar'chak, _ Cody, now there’s two of them!”

Later, when they were riding in a gunship down to the surface of Tatooine, he leaned in close to General Kenobi and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the engines but softly enough that it did not carry over to where Yoda was perched on the swaying floor.

“It appears I was wrong about the mitigating influence of a padawan.”

Kenobi smiled and shook his head, “Only Anakin could bring out that much recklessness in a padawan after only a couple days. I wish Captain Rex the best of luck.”

Cody had a feeling Kenobi could tell he was grinning even under his helmet.

“I told him as much.”

And then the mission was over and they were given a new assignment. If Cody didn’t know any better he would suspect that the Jedi Council was joking when they told them they would be leaving the front lines and picking up relief supplies from the sunny, temperate world of Chandrila.

When they relayed this to the 212th, there was a distinct sigh of relief at the break in conflict, however momentary, and he spotted a grin beneath General Kenobi’s beard as he looked at the barrack full of appeased clones. Chandrila was beautiful and warm, and when they got the news that they had arrived a full day early, Kenobi notified them that they were free to take the extra time to explore Hanna City. Cody could swear his eyes were twinkling when he delivered the news.

The 212th took to this announcement with great enthusiasm, especially after they found a group of locals who were willing to show them around the city. General Kenobi asked Cody what his plans were, and he suppressed the urge to ask if he could simply stay at his side.

“I think it would be best if I kept an eye on the men, sir. At least maybe I can try to keep Waxer from smuggling a tooka onboard.”

Kenobi laughed and Cody felt that fuzzy warmth in his chest again. They watched small groups of clones split off and meander down side streets, no doubt looking for trouble.

“I wish you the best of luck, Commander. If anything should happen, I will be touring the gardens near the capitol building, though I do hope you have something that _you_ want to do?” He looked at Cody curiously, but the clone shook his head.

“The entire 212th? Let loose in one city? I will have more than enough to worry about today… but thank you.” Kenobi gave him a sympathetic look before he turned away, and Cody followed his men into the city center.

He followed Cookie and Pepper to a street market, where they fell into a deep conversation with a woman standing behind a stall piled high with dried chilis and fruits. He found Bara and Gearshift in an arm-wrestling tournament, though he only stayed long enough to check on them (and put a couple of credits on Gearshift) before he left. At one point in the day he could have sworn he saw General Kenobi, but he looked back and convinced himself he was mistaken when the figure was nowhere to be seen.

Cody toyed with the idea of buying his General more tea—he had seemed more relaxed since he gave him the first tin, savoring his morning drink instead of merely sipping it politely—but suddenly he saw Waxer and Boil disappearing down a side alley and the thought was driven out of his mind. He followed them for a while until he saw Waxer drag Boil into a pet shop.

Cody lingered in the square outside the store for a while until he saw them come out again, and was quick to intercept them. “Find anything interesting, boys?”

Waxer shook his head even though he was grinning broadly. “The owner let me feed the monkey-lizards and pet the tookas, but I don’t have the credits to actually buy anything.”

“Not to mention it’s against regs.” Boil cut in, looking at Cody’s glare.

He let them go with a stern look, content in the knowledge that they knew he would bust them down to sanitation duty if they ever actually tried to smuggle an animal on board, but he could never be too careful.

When they had returned to the ship just before dusk, he was informed that General Kenobi had not been seen in hours.

“Would you like to send someone to search for him, sir?”

“No, it’s okay,” Cody responded. “He told me where he was going, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’s just lost track of time.”

He briefly had to ask for directions, but soon he rounded the corner of a huge stone building to see a walkway lined in trees leading to a large park. He picked up the pace as he walked—the gardens were bigger than he imagined, and, though he didn’t immediately sense trouble, he was eager to make sure his General was alright.

As he walked down the pathway, a wide-open field emerged on his left and he spotted a familiar shape under the canopy of a large tree. He walked up to it and found his General asleep with his back against the trunk of an enormous old pine, his robe wadded up for a pillow and an ancient-looking flimsi book in his lap.

Cody found that he didn’t want to wake him just yet, and took a brief moment to observe his General in the fading light.

At this time of day it was nearing sunset and rich beams of light were cutting across the field and turning Kenobi’s hair and beard to spun gold. From this close Cody could see that his face had gone rosy from sitting in the sun too long. After a moment he grudgingly reached out a hand until he could gently shake his shoulder. The General started and reached for the lightsaber at his belt before he realized where he was, and he turned to look at Cody.

“It’s getting late sir, you should come back to the ship,” he said with a small grin. General Kenobi looked at him without blinking for a long moment, then shook his head and smiled. Cody held out a hand to help him up, and the General took it, grabbing his robe and pinning the book under an arm. His ears had turned the same shade of pink as his cheeks. Cody tried not to focus too much on the warmth of his hand through their gloves, or about how much their leisurely walk through the gardens at sunset tugged at some buried-deep _yearning_ for things he couldn’t articulate.

They stayed quiet through the walk, and Cody fought to keep his hands at his sides and his eyes looking straight ahead. They neared the hangar bay where they were due to pick up the transport shuttle, and Cody nodded at Oddball to ready the ship.

Obi Wan looked at him, the sunburn on his face still evident in the weak light of the ship’s cabin. “Did you manage to take care of any unforeseen mishaps?”

“I mandated that Waxer get a pat-down whenever he returns for shore leave to make sure he hasn’t smuggled any animals on board—or, force forbid, children. But this time he returned without any extra cargo.” He knew he was grinning as he shot a sideways glance at Kenobi, who chuckled.

“Sounds reasonable to me, Commander.”

Early the next morning they got the call that the supplies were ready to be loaded onto the _Negotiator,_ before most of the troopers on day shift had even woken up. Cody was just securing his bracers when he got the message on his datapad and he felt a momentary stab of irritation that he wouldn’t be having his morning caf with General Kenobi. He went down to the cargo bay to help move the crates, and he spoke quietly with one of the Chandrilan workers in order to make sure there were no noise complaints or fights involving his men (he knew that some of them went back out after dark, which was allowed but occasionally resulted in some kind of trouble).

Cody helped them for a while before he saw General Kenobi beckoning him over to the side of the cargo bay, two cups in his hands. He walked over to him and took the offered cup gratefully.

“I didn’t think you would want to skip your caf this morning, Commander.”

As he took a sip, he noticed that the caf was _good_. Very good. It was definitely not the standard caf from the mess hall, and he looked up to ask about it when his attention was suddenly seized by something else. The pink tinge in Kenobi’s cheeks from the day before had mellowed somewhat, but as he looked closer, he saw that General Kenobi had _freckles_ dotting almost every inch of his face. A small galaxy of marks sprayed across his nose and cheeks and fading into his beard.

Cody had the absurd urge to run his thumb along Kenobi’s cheekbone to see if they’d come off under his touch like flecks of dust. He must have been staring longer than he thought because General Kenobi’s cheeks went ever-so-slightly pinker and he cleared his throat. Cody looked down at the caf and realized he still didn’t know where it came from.

“This is delicious, sir,” He asked cautiously, “But where did you get it? Because it wasn’t the mess hall.”

The flush in his General’s cheeks beneath the layer of freckles was almost too much for Cody, but he saw him wave a hand dismissively and mumble something about stopping in the market the day before.

Cody grinned to himself as he took another sip of the caf, and they both watched as the last of supplies were loaded into the cargo bay, enjoying a moment of silence before they were sent back to the front lines.

________________________

Cody and General Kenobi were separated for about a month after that, and Waxer very politely did not comment on the tenseness that has settled in his bones and the fact that he jumped at every mission update. There was one particularly bad day when they received word that General Koon was presumed dead after an encounter with General Grevious. The Jedi was one of the first to earn the label of _ ruusaanyc _ by the _vode_ , and he knew there were many men in his own battalion who were quite fond of him as well. Luckily, they got the news that General Koon had been found alive and unharmed, as well as several of his troopers, and the 212th let out a collective sigh of relief.

After that, Cody was partnered with Rex to undertake inspections of various clone outposts, and he was relieved to be able to catch up with his brother. He also enjoyed being able to talk to General Kenobi, even if it was just over holos, and something must have tipped his brother off because Rex started making faces at him whenever he was on a call, and he would see him sticking out his tongue through Kenobi’s ghostly form. (Cody took to keeping his helmet on after that)

“You seem in a hurry to get back to your General.” Rex told him casually, after they had finished their reports.

“Don’t try to say it’s just me, I know you never like to be too far from yours, either.” Cody had responded.

Rex scoffed. “Only because he’s going to jump into some hair-brained scheme and get himself or Commander Tano hurt, or worse.”

There was an unusual current of worry in his voice and Cody looked at him.

“She’s only a kid—a nat-born kid. She’d kill me if I tried to keep her from the front lines, but I wouldn’t wish this war on any _vod’ika_. It’s bad enough they’ve started sending _vode_ out from Kamino before their training is finished.”

Cody understood. He had taken Rex in as a cadet because he recognized the same urge to protect his brothers at all costs. Once they figured out that they could trust their _jetiise_ , it made sense that they would also be included in that protection.

They ran into trouble on the Rishi Moon when they discovered the outpost had been overrun with droids. And as much as Cody had joked about giving Rex the reins, he was proud of how well he was taking the lead. Though it did not mask the sick feeling in his stomach that he felt as they worked with a group of shinies who had just watched their brothers get picked off by droids.

They eventually blew the base to pieces, losing another trooper in the process, but alerting the Republic to the fact that the capture of the base was part of a larger Separatist invasion plan. Cody was back on the _Negotiator_ by the end of the day, and General Kenobi found him looking at star charts of their current region, trying to determine if maybe they were wrong, maybe the Separatists were after a different target.

“You’re hoping they weren’t after Kamino?”

He didn’t even hear the General enter the room, but he wasn’t surprised that Kenobi was the one who found him.

“Yes, sir. But it appears to be a fool’s errand.”

Cody was tired. He dragged a hand over his face as Kenobi stopped next to him. “They’re sending out shinies without the proper training, and more cadets die every day.”

He tried not to let the bitterness he felt seep into his words, but he almost jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Usually he was the one to initiate contact, and it was surprising to him that his General had reached out first. He pushed any lingering resentment down, conscious of his emotions in the force even though he could not feel them himself. Kenobi’s palm was on his pauldron, but he could feel the faint pressure of his pinky on the fabric between pieces of armor and tried not to focus on the spark of warmth it gave him.

“I am sorry that your home has drawn Grevious’s eye. You know I will help you defend it if need be.”

Cody smiled but it felt hollow. “Kamino is the closest thing we have to a home, but not out of any devotion to happy memories. The only reason I worry is for the brothers who live there. We knew no other home but each other.”

Kenobi squeezed his shoulder lightly then dropped his hand, but he stayed close, almost leaning into Cody.

“I know you learned some things about the Jedi from General Ti. What do you know of how we grew up?”

“Only that you learned in groups as younglings in the Temple, sir.” General Ti had mainly told him about the conflict with the dark side because he had asked about the Sith and their place in the war, but she did mention growing up in the Temple on Coruscant.

Kenobi stared at the star chart, looking hard at the tiny hologram of Kamino.

“We are given to the Temple when we are… very young. I have no memory of my family or my home before that, and it’s the connections I formed with my teachers and other Jedi that I recall most from when I was young. If your brothers on Kamino are put at risk during this war, I will help you protect them.”

Cody could see the freckles on his General’s face, still there but faded somewhat. He saw the earnestness in those stormy blue eyes and he knew that there was no one else he’d rather follow to the end of this force-forsaken war.

________________________

Kenobi was called away on another _jetii_ assignment with General Skywalker, and when he returned he refused to talk about the mission, which Cody found unusual. General Kenobi generally shared any part of his missions which would affect the strategy of the GAR, but when Cody brought it up, he only looked away somewhat sheepishly. He knew that his General had not been injured, but he became concerned when he heard rumors that he had encountered Dooku and pirates.

“Cody, it’s not that it was confidential just… embarrassing.”

He stared. His General was not one to easily admit defeat. Oh, he was confident in admitting he was wrong from time to time, but Cody knew it was rare for Kenobi to be out done. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, even though he had not given up on the interrogation.

Shortly after that, they were assigned to Ryloth.

Cody knew during the briefing that, if he could sense his General’s unease, General Windu could as well, and their plan became focused first and foremost on ensuring the safety of Twi’leks. He and General Kenobi flew down to the planet’s surface with the 212th, and they made it very clear to their men that they were to do as little damage as they could in order to help the Twi’leks whose homes had been invaded.

After working apart for a while, Cody wondered if Kenobi noticed his tendency to stay close to him in battle—he probably did, but Cody couldn’t find it in himself to care. He relished the feeling of being back by Kenobi’s side, watching his brilliant blue lightsaber take out droids with every redirected blast, following its glow through the trees as they made their way to the town of Nabat.

Cody could see the lines of Kenobi’s shoulders getting tenser with every empty home they discovered. When he left to scout with Waxer, Boil, and Wooley, he soon found himself staring at a courtyard full of droids and tanks, with the Twi’leks held captive in the middle. He told the General about this, and he saw something in Kenobi’s eyes that he found unfamiliar.

It was the first time he saw genuine anger. Not irritation or annoyance.

His blue eyes hardened to a steely grey and Cody could see his mind working to provide alternate strategies that would not put the inhabitants of the village at risk.

Then came the hoard of gutkurrs, and even though Cody could see his anger increasing, Kenobi led them away gently in a display of the force that had all of the shinies mesmerized.

“Quiet, rookie.” He heard himself snap at one of them, unsure of where the uncharacteristic spike of jealousy came from. Even though he tended to think of Kenobi as _his_ General, he commanded the entire 7th Sky Corps. Kenobi was never really _his._

But then Cody had his lightsaber in hand again and the General took it back with a grateful smile that settled the irritation scraping around inside his chest. And when he saw the Twi’lek girl that Waxer and Boil had found, he softened considerably. Cody concealed his curiosity when Kenobi spoke to the girl in twi’leki and accepted his role in drawing out the droids while the General freed their hostages. He watched as Kenobi lifted the Twi’lek girl into his arms as naturally as he swung his lightsaber, and he ignored the protective want that flared beneath his ribs.

As they were leaving, Cody looked gravely through his visor at Kenobi. “Bring them back safely, General.”

“Yes, sir.” Kenobi snapped a loose salute, but his smile was all teeth.

There was the man Cody had seen when he watched recordings of the Battle of Geonosis. The one who firmly planted himself between his men and whatever threatened them, ready to defend until he could no longer stand. Cody turned away before he could reach out to him, instead calling for his men to provide the General the distraction he needed to free the people of Nabat.

________________________

After the battle, they passed off the ground assault to General Windu and his men and set up a camp outside of the town. Some of their supplies had been in the gunships that were shot down, so Cody and General Kenobi were assigned to the same tent. They arranged their cots and made sure all the men were set up for the night before they began peeling off their armor. It took as long for Cody to remove all the white plastoid as it did the General to get rid of his numerous outer layers of tunics.

There might have been some awkwardness had they not been exhausted by the events of the day, and they quickly drifted off on their adjacent cots; each facing the other, a blaster beneath Cody’s pillow like he kept whenever they were not sleeping aboard the _Negotiator_.

Sometime in the night, Cody awoke to the sound of movement, and he went briefly on the alert before he realized it was coming from General Kenobi. He was thrashing on his cot and Cody didn’t even think before crossing the short distance between them and placing a hand on his General’s shoulder. Kenobi jerked awake and looked around the tent, his eyes wild. Cody tightened the grip on his arm.

“General Kenobi, you’re safe. We’re on Ryloth. We’re in a camp just outside of Nabat.” He kept his voice low and calm and Kenobi steadied under his hand until his eyes had cleared and his breathing slowed.

“Cody?”

“Yes, sir. I’m right here.”

The General put a hand over Cody’s, and the skin-to-skin contact almost made him jump. But the look that still lingered in his eyes was enough for Cody to fall back on instincts born of years comforting his brothers. He gently removed his hand from Kenobi’s shoulder, instantly missing its warmth, then leaned over to pull his cot against his General’s. He laid down so that he was facing outward, making his body a physical barrier between Kenobi and the tent door. He took one of the spare blankets and threw it over both of them to keep out the damp chill of the night air.

Cody wasn’t brave enough to initiate the full-body contact that he and his brothers preferred after particularly bad days, but he allowed a small smile when he felt a tentative hand press itself between his shoulder blades.

Cody did not turn around, but he focused his eyes on the door and his hand on the blaster beneath his pillow until he felt his General’s breathing even out behind him. He would make himself a shield, and even though he couldn’t fight whatever enemies where in General Kenobi’s head, he wouldn’t leave him alone in this battle any more than he would out in the field.

In the morning, Cody woke up still facing the door to the tent, but there was a warm weight at his back: General Kenobi had curled up in a ball on his cot. He could feel the press of a forehead on the back of his neck and a knee on his spine and very cold toes in the crooks of his knees. He gently peeled off the thin blanket as he sat up, and tucked it back in around his General, then reattached his armor from the waist down and went to go find a cup of caf.

It was just after dawn and the early morning light cut through the trees and painted the ground and sides of the tents in long stripes. Cookie was just coming down in a gunship with morning rations. He had a couple of enormous insulated caf dispensers, which the few men who were awake made a beeline for.

Cody leaned over and was about to ask him if he had brought any tea when Cookie pressed a thermos into his hands.

 _ "Vor entye," _ he whispered emphatically before making his way back to General Kenobi’s tent. He tapped a quick warning against the side, watching the canvas ripple, and after he received no response he pushed the flap apart and walked in. The General had moved their cots apart so that there was just enough room to sit on the edge, and he had thrown one of his tunics back on. Cody shuffled in between the cots and sat on his own, pressing his right knee against Kenobi’s in greeting.

He looked up as Cody held out the thermos and shot him a grateful look as he reached over to take it, yawning.

“Did you sleep better last night?” He asked, taking a sip of his caf.

Kenobi didn’t look at him as he poured the tea into the lid of the thermos, but he nodded. “I did. Thank you.”

“Nightmares were rather common on Kamino. They still are. We always found that physical contact helped.” He watched Kenobi take a drink, “If I overstepped, I apologize.”

“You didn’t, I-” The General stopped, trying to find the words. “It helped. I’m sorry that I woke you in the first place.”

Cody nudged his General’s knee again. “It’s okay, really.” He stood up and stretched, then walked around the bed to start putting on the top part of his armor, carefully layering the pieces of plastoid as Kenobi sipped his tea.

He walked over to the tent door and went out, fixing the flap so that sunlight spilled inside, then leaned against the doorway. Kenobi joined him with his tea, and they watched their troops wake under the rising sun. Cody turned to look at him and found Kenobi abruptly looking away, hiding his face in the cup of tea.

“You got them out safely then.” Cody said into the cool morning air.

“I suppose,” came the response. He turned to look at his General and found him glaring at the twisted remains of one of their gunships that was just beyond the edge of their camp. “They should never have been in danger in the first place.”

“You cannot pick and choose which planets the Separatists occupy, nor can you blame yourself for the tactics they use.” His words appeared to have only a mild effect and his General’s fingers loosened slightly around his tea. But his eyes had regained their mutinous glare.

“Using people as cover. Knowing that we would not dare risk their lives and so they could continue bombing their homes while we watched. Starving the gutkurrs until they were feral and mindless so they could use them as weapons…” Kenobi’s teeth were gritted and the surface of the tea rippled as he spoke, but he reeled himself in and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry Cody. It is not the Jedi way to let our emotions get the better of us.”

Cody watched him look out at the _vode_ milling about the tents, chatting amiably in the bright morning sun.

“Perhaps. But is it not better to acknowledge that you have them, rather than pretending you do not?”

Kenobi did not answer, but Cody watched the anger in his eyes subside as they caught the sunlight, and he did not think any less of him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _jetii kebise_ : jedi stuff (this is absolutely GAR slang for any weird force shit)  
>  _'Kay ka’ra drashaar ciryc_ : 'Til the stars grow cold (this is a Singing in the Rain reference because I'm a big ole sap)  
>  _Haar'chak_ : Damnit  
>  _ruusaanyc_ : trustworthy  
>  _Vor entye_ : Thank you (lit. I accept a debt)
> 
> Fun Fact: I used to undergo spot checks whenever I left a house with cats because my dad was worried I would try to smuggle a kitten home in my pocket.
> 
> And please look at [this](https://rrrainbo.tumblr.com/post/190849580302/concept-obi-wan-gets-sunburned-on-a-mission-and) amazing fanart of Obi Wan with freckles.


	5. Obi Wan understands Cody a little better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: The Author gets emotional about Obi Wan Kenobi (aka that man's life is a goddamn tragedy)
> 
> Lots of love to everyone who's read this, left kudos, subscribed, commented, made me cry, etc...
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

After Christophsis, Obi Wan had resigned himself to the fact that he was relying on Cody more and more. Cody was the one who tried to pull him out of his self-pity, even though he could feel the anger rolling off him at Slick’s betrayal. Obi Wan had fallen asleep with his Commander beside him and a cup of tea in his hands and tried not to think that, in another life, they could have this every night.

Then, when he had fallen asleep in a park on Chandrila (which he had not meant to do, but it was so rare that they had a day to themselves and he was warm and comfortable in the afternoon sun), Cody had come to find him. He hadn’t judged when Obi Wan immediately went for his weapon out of habit, and he had held out a hand and grinned and the _warmth_ Obi Wan felt in the force nearly bowled him over. The sun was throwing his scar into sharp relief and making his amber eyes glow gold, and Obi Wan had to shake his head to clear his thoughts before he took his Commander’s hand.

He could have kicked himself the next day for letting his face burn, but he wasn’t going to waste the bacta on it when they were going back into battle so soon, and he was briefly glad for the sunburn when Cody’s eyes swept his face as he asked about the caf, and his blush was harder to spot. The caf that _Obi Wan_ had bought him, for no other reason than he thought Cody deserved something nice. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it when he caught another small smile on his Commander’s otherwise stoic face.

And then they were separated. Obi Wan was forced to endure General Koon’s reported death, and he had to pretend not to notice his padawan’s relationship with Senator Amidala _again_. He was relieved when Cody was assigned to a series of outpost inspections and began reporting to him regularly, and he knew he appeared far too fond when he commented what a good man his Commander was, seemingly to the room at large.

He hid his concern when Cody didn’t check in from the Rishi Station by needling Anakin about his influence on his Captain, but he bristled when Anakin did the same. The part of his brain that had the Jedi Code memorized since he was 13 said something about attachments, but he ignored it. _If something happened to that base,_ he reasoned, _it would be far more troubling for the greater war than a missed check-in._

 _Kamino is in that sector. The_ cadets _are on Kamino._

He had already gotten word that they were sending out clones over a year before their training finished, and his mind flashed back to the rows of children he had seen in those sterile white hallways. But even as his anxiety mounted, there was no logical reason he could give for wanting to personally land on the Rishi Moon to see if his Commander was okay.

“If something were wrong, Cody would contact us.”

He worriedly monitored the All Clear signal, and when it stopped transmitting, he immediately called for the fleet to converge on the moon. The knot in his chest didn’t ease until Cody was back on the _Negotiator_ , with Captain Rex and two more shinies in tow.

_There should be more. The station’s whole crew, gone._

He found Cody studying star charts that night, and Obi Wan knew he was trying to think of another target that the Separatists may have wanted to attack. Anything but his brothers on Kamino.

Obi Wan could feel his frustration and exhaustion as if it were his own, and he put a hand on Cody’s shoulder, letting his fingers brush his blacks softly. He was here, he would help however he could. And what he said about the Jedi Temple was true—he had happy memories there, but they were mostly tied to the people he had grown up with.

Yoda taking him to the Room of a Thousand Fountains when he was a crecheling. Sneaking into the refectory after hours with Quinlan. Drinking tea with Qui Gon in their quarters. The first time Anakin managed to surprise him during a spar.

Obi Wan looked into Cody’s eyes until he was sure he understood the promise to help protect the _vode_ , despite the helpless, hopeless feeling of the war.

________________________

Ryloth chipped away at his resolve bit by bit until he was determined to rip the droids apart to save the people of Nabat. He could feel the hopelessness coming off the walls of hastily abandoned homes, and Cody’s own unease was particularly worrying to Obi Wan. They were more in sync now, after having been reunited (he wasn’t too keen to discuss his embarrassing capture by pirates, even though he could feel Cody’s amusement) and he relished his Commander’s steady presence nearby. Because, even if he was angry, he kept it contained and lingered close in a way that was infinitely comforting.

And then Cody had ended up with his lightsaber again, handing it over gently, and his own anger eased somewhat. When Waxer and Boil appeared with Numa, he spoke with all of the gentleness he could muster, hardening it to a cutting edge when they came up with a plan to free the Twi’leks. He knew the grin he gave Cody was a little feral, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Then they won and he was tired. Tired of being angry and tired of watching innocent people used as pawns in this war.

Relieved that he was passing the fight to Master Windu, he focused instead on setting up his tent and watching Cody set up his cot on the other side of the narrow space. He was too tired to feel anything but comfort at his Commander’s proximity, and they both stripped down to their last layers of clothing and fell asleep quickly inside their shared tent.

But Obi Wan should have known that his day wasn’t over.

The dream started the way it usually did: Naboo and a double-bladed, blood-red lightsaber, anger and fear coursing through every inch of his body. He saw his master fall over and over again, but this time the red zabrak wasn’t running his lightsaber through Qui-Gon anymore, but Cody, and his Commander’s teeth were gritted against the pain as blood bubbled around his gums.

But Obi Wan couldn’t get to him through the ray shield and the rage and fear ate through his body like acid.

Obi Wan couldn’t help him.

He was suddenly startled awake by a hand on his arm and a voice nearby. “General Kenobi, you’re safe. We’re on Ryloth. We’re in a camp just outside of Nabat.” It was Cody’s voice. Cody who was alive and well.

He was fine. _They_ were fine. They were on Ryloth and Obi Wan had his Commander’s hand on his arm.

He put his own hand over Cody’s and relished the warmth and concern in the force before he moved away. Obi Wan smothered the undignified noise he wanted to make at the separation when the Commander pushed their cots together and laid down next to him, facing the tent door and making himself into a barrier between them and any threat. It briefly made Obi Wan want to cry. He had failed to protect Cody in his dreams, and yet Cody was protecting him even now.

Cody kept his distance, but Obi Wan settled a hand against his back and felt a wave of pleased contentment ripple out in the force. It was easy to lose himself in his Commander’s steady force signature, and he was able to drift off without fear after that.

In the morning he awoke with the sheets still warm. He felt Cody’s presence nearby as he sat up groggily and tugged one of his tunics back over his head. Obi Wan pushed Cody’s cot just far enough to throw his legs over the side and stretch his arms toward the ceiling, listening to the vertebrae in his back pop and leaning over to scratch an old scar on his ribs that always seemed to itch.

He stared down at his toes and heard the rustle of warning before the tent flap opened and Cody was shoving a thermos into his hands. He took it and poured out a cup of tea, sipping gratefully. Cody’s voice was soft when he asked if he had overstepped Obi Wan’s boundaries, and he looked up immediately to say _of course not_ when his thoughts were abruptly derailed.

He had seen Cody in his blacks before, _kriff_ , he had just slept curled up next to him, but this proximity was new when they weren’t crashing after a campaign. Obi Wan was at a loss for words for a moment as he watched Cody’s body move beneath the skintight material. He was a Jedi for force sake, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t had the occasional fling, but something about his Commander’s familiar presence and the fact that he was allowing Obi Wan to see him literally without his armor heightened the feeling of want that he had been trying so hard to keep suppressed.

He subtly ogled Cody as he reattached his armor over his torso and arms, morning irritability contributing to his petulant frown as he watched those muscles disappear again under white plastoid. Cody walked over to the door and propped the flap open, flooding the tent with morning sun, and Obi Wan stretched again and strapped on his boots to join him. He looked at Cody’s sleep-mussed hair (which was subtle, but he didn’t want to admit that he’d spent enough time looking at it to be able to tell) and the warm gold of his eyes in the sun before his Commander turned to him and Obi Wan quickly looked away.

His eyes caught on one of their downed gunships from the day before and that old anger rattled inside his chest like shards of glass.

But again, Cody’s calm, constant presence got inside his head, and that grounded him more than anything else.

________________________

A few weeks later they were on Coruscant, and despite all Obi Wan’s promises to help Cody defend his home, Cad Bane invaded _his_ when he broke into the Jedi Temple. He was somewhat grateful for Master Windu’s presence as they took Bane to retrieve the stolen holocron, because if he had chosen to take out his righteous anger on the bounty hunter for risking the lives of thousands of younglings, he wasn’t so sure Cody would have stopped him.

Later, when he joked about keeping the ship running, Obi Wan was glad Master Windu was out of earshot so he wouldn’t hear his chuckle, and after they had to make their hurried escape, he took the time to press a hand to Cody’s shoulder. An outwardly reassuring gesture to Windu, but he soaked up his Commander’s warmth through the cracks in his armor as a reminder that they were both safe.

He kept hold of that thought when they were separated again and he was forced to work with a group of bounty hunters, or when he came face to face with a Zillo Beast for the first time. But the encouraging spark in his chest flickered when he was faced with their next mission.

Geonosis.

It didn’t give him the same nightmares that Naboo did, but there had been times when the droning noise of hundreds of Geonosians had awoken him in a cold sweat with the roar of the aklay in his ears and the blood of his fellow Jedi fading into memory on his hands.

Geonosis was one of the last planets he ever wanted to set foot on again, but this time he had a plan. He had Anakin and Master Mundi backing him up and a clear objective to work towards. And he had Cody.

Obi Wan knew that he must have appeared outwardly anxious because his Commander stuck closer to his side than usual, following his instructions with increased attention to detail, which for Cody was quite a lot.

Obi Wan sensed a sort of protective vigilance around Cody when he confessed that he had not been in the first battle on Geonosis, and internally he thanked the force that his Commander had not been part of that first, brutal attack. Outwardly, he made a joke about being tied up in the arena and the cloud around Cody dissipated slightly with his amusement.

And then they were flying into a barrage of blaster fire from all sides, and he heard Cody over the comm, slightly panicked, warning him to stay away, but it was too late and Obi Wan’s ship was shot down over the staging area. He was thrown against the wall of the gunship, a familiar aching pain telling him one of his ankles would not be taking his weight for a while and that a few of his ribs were most likely bruised.

The ship was on the ground, but the troopers were piled inside like rag dolls and he was reminded painfully of scenes from his nightmares, groups of clones dead on the ground in a mass of wanton destruction.

“Troopers! Who’s injured? Report!”

Obi Wan called out to the painfully silent cabin. He heard a rustling noise to his left and was relieved to see Trapper lurch forward with a hand on his ribs.

“Trapper here, but I think it’s just us, General.” His voice was wheezy but Obi Wan was relieved to hear a response.

They both shuffled until their backs were pressed to the cold, metal wall, and he heard Trapper let out a weak laugh. “I knew it, no good ever came from this kriffing planet.”

Obi Wan looked at him curiously.

“Were you involved in the first assault, Trapper?”

“I was, sir. I was in one of the later waves, though, towards the end. Almost think it was worse, because then we got the true measure of the casualties. A lot of clones died that day.”

Obi Wan looked at his feet. There wasn’t much he could apologize for that he didn’t already berate himself about in his nightmares. He could have done more, could have saved so many more lives, but Trapper hadn’t finished speaking.

“I know you were there too, sir. I know a lot of Jedi died as well. We both lost. Everybody lost.”

“I am sorry Trapper, that I couldn’t do more for them then, and that I can’t do more now.”

Trapper laughed again despite the pain. “You’ve done more than you know, General. Kriff, you helped me keep my position when freezing up before battle should have had me sent for reconditioning.”

Obi Wan stared at him. He knew something of the strict standards the Kaminoans had imposed upon their clones, but to hear it stated so plainly that any sign of… _humanity_ would get them killed made his stomach turn and his hand itch for his lightsaber.

“You deserve better than that,” Obi Wan said softly, staring at his knees.

“I think we are just beginning to understand that, sir. And you helped us to see it.” Trapper went quiet and Obi Wan allowed himself a small grin, feeling a stinging tug on his cheek that meant he probably cut it in the crash.

They sat for a moment, listening to the blasterfire outside before the door of the gunship was wrenched open and the familiar figures of Waxer and Boil leaned in to grab them.

They made it back to the rest of the 212th and settled within the protective ring of AT-TEs, and Obi Wan felt his anxiety subside a bit once he was back at his Commander’s side. As he sat on the ground leaning against a stack of crates, Helix jabbed a hypo into his neck before he could protest and he resisted the urge to make a very childish face at the medic. Obi Wan took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow and looked at the circle of tanks and gunships surrounding their position.

As the Geonosians inched closer and closer, the 212th tightened their perimeter, and Cody placed himself directly between Obi Wan and the enemy. He was painfully reminded of the first assault; pinned on all sides by the droids and Geonosians while surrounded by his dead brothers and sisters. Obi Wan gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand, despite the pain in his ribs and his leg and his head, igniting his lightsaber and channeling his protective anger into what he hoped would not be a final stand.

“Reinforcements! Reinforcements have arrived!”

He heard the shout and slumped back against the crate, letting his lightsaber swing back to his side and listening to his men cheer. Ahsoka ran up to him and he could see Anakin and Ki Adi behind her.

_They were okay._

There was more to be done, but as he gave his battle plan still sitting in the Geonosian dust, he couldn’t wait to get off the planet. After Anakin and Master Mundi departed to take down the shield, Helix took the time to see to any of the wounded, commandeering Cody—who did not look to happy to be leaving his side—for an extra set of hands and a calming presence. Then the mission was complete, and Anakin was hauling him over to one of the gunships to be escorted back to the _Negotiator_ , passing him off to Longshot and then to Master Mundi before the doors closed and the ship lurched into the air.

He saw Cody walk up to them both in the dim light of the hold as Obi Wan’s adrenaline faded and his energy ebbed away.

He heard his Commander’s voice speaking softly close by. “You need to rest, too, General Mundi. I can take General Kenobi for the moment.”

And then he was changing hands, the rough robes being replaced with hard but familiar pastoid. They made their way to a bench along the wall and sat down heavily, Cody’s arm falling from around Obi Wan’s chest to his waist. He thought the strength of the arms around him felt familiar, and he was tired enough to make a point of saying this to his Commander.

Cody’s helmet _thunked_ as it hit the gunship wall, and he chuckled under his breath. “Shouldn’t be familiar, sir. The last time this happened you were unconscious.” Obi Wan smiled and leaned into Cody’s side, trying hard not to fall asleep, but happy to be off Geonosis for the time being. He had nearly drifted off when he felt something wet on his hand where it was thrown around Cody. When he lifted his head, he saw blood on his fingers.

_ “Al’verde, gar kadala.” _

For reasons Obi Wan’s muddled brain couldn’t quite figure out, Cody immediately went still beside him. He didn’t pull away, though, and Obi Wan used the opportunity to grasp his Commander’s arm, revealing a shallow wound where a blaster bolt had managed to get between the plates of his armor. Cody hesitantly lifted Obi Wan’s hand away and relaxed slightly.

 _ “Cuy naas,” _he responded softly, and Obi Wan snorted.

_ “Ni n’urmankala gar.” _

But Cody seemed able to move the arm alright, so Obi Wan settled back into his side and made a note to tell Helix that the Commander was avoiding medical treatment again. He was soon rocked to sleep by the gentle motion of the gunship as they sped off toward the _Negotiator._

________________________

After he woke in the medbay, he felt much better, the pain in his ribs and head nearly gone while his ankle appeared to be in a temporary brace. He heard a noise and saw Cody shifting to look at him from a chair next to the bed. There was a bandage around his arm and most of the dust appeared to have been wiped from his armor, though the paint was in dire need of reapplication and the honey-gold stripes were nearly scratched away.

“I really hope you didn’t sleep in that chair, Cody.” Obi Wan grunted as he sat up on the bed, twisting his torso slowly to check his range of movement. Cody moved his helmet from his lap to the bed and leaned forward to rub his hands over his face.

“Then I’m not going to answer if that’s alright with you.” His Commander had his chin resting on his clasped hands and he was looking at Obi Wan with something calculating in his eyes.

_ “Gar n’rejorhaa’i mhi gar jorhaar’i mando’a.” _

Obi Wan froze as he stretched his shoulders, lowering his arms slowly, thinking hard about the day before. He sighed as he remembered being in pain and exhausted and surrounded by the comforting warmth of his Commander, wanting to make sure he was okay. He hadn’t even realized at the time that he had spoken in Mando’a.

Obi Wan didn’t look at Cody for a moment, instead smoothing his fingers over the sheets in his lap as he thought over how to explain. When he looked up, though, Cody’s gaze was softer than he expected and Obi Wan found it easier to continue.

“It was not out of any malicious intent, Commander. I would never willingly mislead you or your brothers.”

Cody nodded. “I won’t say I wasn’t angry at first, but I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know you over the past year. I don’t think you would lie to us about that, in fact,” Cody scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I don’t think any of us actually asked you if you spoke Mando’a.”

Obi Wan’s lips twitched but he looked his Commander squarely in the eye, “I didn’t want you or your brothers to feel like you needed to hide that bit of yourselves.”

Cody leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “We didn’t, and for that I am grateful. I should probably warn the men to keep their conversations polite, though, shouldn’t I?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” Obi Wan responded with a smile, relishing the sparkle in his Commander’s eye.

“Where did you even pick up Mando’a? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Obi Wan returned to stretching, ignoring the lingering ache in his ribs. “A mission to Mandalore when I was still a padawan. My master and I spent a year protecting Duchess Kryze from bounty hunters, and there wasn’t much to do on the run, so she told us stories.”

Obi Wan watched Cody’s expression turn pensive, but he looked over and saw another trooper on one of the far beds and his grin faded.

“How’s Trapper?”

Cody didn’t look solemn, and Obi Wan took hope from that. “He’ll be okay. Helix’ll patch him up just fine. He was dreading going back to Geonosis, and I hate to think that his fears were realized.”

“He and I both. Trapper told me he had been involved in the first assault, and I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.”

Cody ran hand over his short hair, that same intense protectiveness invading his force signature as when he they had spoken briefly about the battle before.

“I know I told you that I wasn’t involved in the First Battle of Geonosis, but I didn’t tell you _why._ ” He wasn’t looking at Obi Wan, and he had picked his helmet up and was tracing the pattern of marks on the chin that looked vaguely familiar. “I _couldn’t_ participate in the battle. I was laid up in the medbay and I couldn’t even help them.”

Obi Wan reached out a hand and laid it on his Commander’s arm. Just enough pressure to let him know he was there, and Cody took a shaky breath. Obi Wan knew how that felt. The helplessness. The fierce desire to defend whoever you had left.

In his dreams, it was never Obi Wan who died. They were never that forgiving. It was Qui Gon. Anakin. Ahsoka. Cody. Waxer. Boil. Rex. All the clones he did not have names for scattered like fallen leaves on some endless, bloody battlefield.

He knew down to his bones that Cody’s dreams were the same.

Obi Wan moved until he had his Commander’s hand in a tight grasp and he squeezed it with all the determination he felt for Cody and his brothers, until he felt the pressure returned and he could see the same conviction in those amber eyes.

They shared the fierce protective urge that went deeper than duty.

Obi Wan knew that Cody would protect his men with his life, now he hoped his Commander understood that he would do exactly the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's sad again... damnit Obi Wan
> 
>  _Al'verde, gar kadala_ : Commander, you're hurt.  
>  _Cuy naas_ : It's nothing.  
>  _Ni n'urmankala gar_ : I don't believe you.  
>  _Gar n’rejorhaa’i mhi gar jorhaar’i mando’a_ : You didn't tell us you spoke mando'a.
> 
> I know everyone wanted the Mando'a reveal to be funny and/or surprising, but I caved to the voice in my head saying **make it tender**
> 
> also please marvel at this [lovely fanart](https://cranity.tumblr.com/post/620222450896175104/its-obi-wans-turn-at-story-night-and-everyone) of Obi Wan being a rowdy padawan with Quinlan (which is absolutely canon)
> 
> The point that I am hinting at in this fic is that Obi Wan and Cody are inherently comfortable around each other. It's only when they actually stop to think about the rules that they have an issue.


	6. Cody realizes some things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: Cody is Soft
> 
> Love to the many (and, I'm sure, lovely) readers of this fic
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

Cody had hoped, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, that he could redeem himself in some way on Geonosis. He saw his General’s expression when they were given their orders, and he was familiar with the anger and sadness he found there.

He had a memory of standing in the archives on Kamino, watching a colorless, grainy holovid. General Kenobi stalking the middle of an arena, surrounded by the dead but willing to fight for them still. Cody hadn’t forgotten the sight of his eyes wild and frightened in the darkness of a tent on Ryloth, and he knew what forms Kenobi’s nightmares most likely took.

He stuck close to his General’s side as much as he could, triple-checking all their equipment and conferring with Rex and Jet about their plans. Cody wasn’t happy that he and Kenobi were taking separate gunships down to the surface, and he tried not to let his irritation show when they spoke before takeoff, but moments later he felt the regret return tenfold and his heartrate spike as he was forced to listen to his General get shot out of the sky.

Once on the ground, Cody was almost certain Waxer and Boil heard him grinding his teeth from several feet away, but he scanned the downed ships through a pair of binoculars and barked at the two of them to check the one General Kenobi had been on. He directed his men with a tenseness that he knew they could feel but he did not apologize for, until he saw Waxer and Boil supporting Trapper and a limping Kenobi. Cody allowed a moment of grief for the rest of the men who had been in the gunship before he placed himself at his General’s side and ordered the tanks into a protective circle.

The Geonosians got closer and Cody couldn’t help but feel trapped. They were picking off his men and General Kenobi was on the ground, but they needed to hold their position. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kenobi struggle upright and ignite his lightsaber, teeth gritted against the pain.

Then the call went up that their reinforcements had arrived, and a squad of Y-wing bombers soared over the staging area.

Cody took a deep breath and closed his eyes beneath his helmet. He sent up a prayer to anyone listening (to the force itself if it was willing to take the time for a clone) that they would be able to get off Geonosis in one piece.

He winced slightly as he dropped his blaster to his side. One of the enemy guns had managed to graze his arm, but it was shallow and he was fairly sure he could keep Helix at bay until everyone else was seen to.

Generals Skywalker and Mundi arrived shortly after that, and they moved on to the next leg of their plan. Luckily the 212th was allowed to stay behind for the moment, both in order to hold the staging area and tend to the wounded. When Helix pulled him away from Kenobi to assist, Cody did not protest, but he shot the medic a look that would have sent a shiny scrambling for cover. Helix didn’t even flinch.

A short while later, they received word that the shield generator had been destroyed and they would soon be picked up to return to the _Negotiator_ for the night. Cody observed his General’s slumped form with worry until he was able to ease him away from General Mundi, who looked just as exhausted, and walk them over to a bench.

“This feels familiar.”

He heard his General’s voice muffled against his shoulder and he resisted the overwhelming urge to pull him closer. Instead he leaned back against the wall and remembered a long-ago mission at the beginning of the war—one that ended with Kenobi in his arms in the belly of a different gunship. They sat in silence for a few minutes before he felt a hand move near the wound on his arm, but before he could berate himself for not concealing it better, his General spoke softly from where he was still curled around Cody.

_ “Al’verde, gar kadala.” _

He went very still, surprise coursing through his body.

Immediately a pulse of alarm thrummed in his head—the _vode_ had been speaking Mando’a openly for months, had Kenobi been listening to them? Had he heard them complaining about the war? The Republic? Had he reported them? Why hadn’t he said anything?

But as Cody watched Kenobi handle his arm in order to inspect his injury, fingers impossibly gentle against the bloody blacks, his worries felt unfounded and hollow.

He had been working with his General for over a year now, and he had been nothing but encouraging when the _vode_ did anything to distinguish themselves as individuals. For the first time Cody found himself ignoring his trained response and relying on faith.

Cody hesitantly removed his General’s hand and told him it was nothing. It certainly was nothing compared to Kenobi’s clearly damaged ankle and ribs, but he only groggily replied he didn’t believe him. Cody chuckled at that and watched his General drift off pressed against his hard plastoid armor. There was a cut across his cheek from a bit of shrapnel, but Cody didn’t see any wounds that looked like they needed immediate attention.

Ignoring the pointed looks from his brothers, he wrapped his arm tighter around Kenobi and nosed into his soft red-gold hair, falling asleep in a matter of minutes with the buzz of contentment humming in his bones.

He woke to a sharp kick at his shins, and he cracked an eye open to see Helix glaring at them. The ship was docked in the hangar bay and the other men had filed out until it was just the three of them. Cody still had his arms around General Kenobi, but he found that he didn’t want to let go.

“Not again, Cody.”

He huffed in mock outrage. “We are both significantly less injured than last time.”

“Both?” Helix went back to glaring at him, hand moving toward the medbag at his side. Cody winced at his poor choice of words, but he tilted his head at his General, still asleep at his side.

“He’s got the worst of it, but nothing too dire. Ankle should be braced and his ribs treated. Did you get Trapper?”

Helix nodded. “He’s in the medbay. Should I get a stretcher for the General?”

“No need,” said Cody, twisting at the waist and sliding a hand behind Kenobi’s knees to lift him into his arms.

“ _Kote_ ,” Helix’s tone was admonishing, and he shook his head. _ "Gar copaani taylir kaysh ibac gebi?" _

Cody realized that, if Kenobi were awake, he would be able to understand every word, and he blushed beneath his helmet. He didn’t take the time to gratify Helix with a response, only moved to stand and shuffle his way off the gunship. Cody could feel Helix following them closely, and as he passed a few of the men he saw that they were all grinning at him, some understanding, but some definitely smug.

Boil had the gall to wink at him. _ Mir’sheb. _

He concentrated instead on the warmth of his General in his arms and on getting them both to the medbay with minimal distraction. As he walked through the door, Helix slipped out from behind him and gestured to one of the beds. Cody gently set Kenobi down, trying not to jostle his ribs, and the medic wheeled over a cart with bacta and other medical supplies. He wiped Kenobi’s face and cheek clean of the Geonosian dust and smeared it with a touch of bacta before turning to his armor.

For some reason he wouldn’t touch the plastoid, but he looked at Cody significantly.

Cody shrugged and reached for the closures on his General’s chestplate and bracers, slowly sliding them off and placing them on a nearby chair. Helix set about removing the outer layers of his tunics as Cody reached for his greaves and boots, removing them gently so as to not irritate his twisted ankle. Cody removed his own helmet and glanced up to see Helix uncover a cluster of bruises over Kenobi’s ribs.

Cody eyed his General critically, there were dozens of faded scars all along his torso (he could only imagine how many he _couldn’t_ see) all beneath a layer of red-gold hair and an abundance of freckles that Cody could now confirm continued down below his neck.

Kenobi had felt too light in his arms, and there was almost no fat on him, his muscles cutting his body into harsh lines and angles. Cody made a mental note to push more food on him whenever he could. Muscle was all well and good, but he and his brothers knew to keep a healthy layer of fat on their bones—to cushion a blow or give your body something to burn when you were stuck on a no-name planet waiting for reinforcements and rations.

He looked at his General and his fingers itched to trace the outline of the scar he recognized from the last time he had thrown himself between the enemy and his men. Kenobi was by no means fragile, but that didn’t stop the impulse Cody felt to keep him safe, keep him protected.

Helix finished putting the brace on the General’s ankle and shuffled back up near his torso. He reached over into the med-cart and then began applying a layer of cooling cream to the bruises on his ribs to keep the swelling down. Kenobi inhaled reflexively as the icy cream hit his skin, but he did not wake. Helix put the tube back into the cart and then turned to Cody.

“And you?”

Cody tried to wave him off, “Shouldn’t you be helping Trapper?”

“Stitch has him.” He gestured to one of the beds in the corner where Cody could see the junior medic hovering around the unconscious trooper.

He heard Helix make a noise and then he was reaching for Cody’s arm, and he cursed when he realized that some of his blood had smeared against his side, becoming visible against the plastoid where it had not been on his blacks. He started to move away but Helix tightened his grip.

He saw the medic glance between him and General Kenobi before he spoke. “If you let me treat this, I’ll allow you to stay in the medbay tonight.”

Cody nodded his approval and Helix’s hand moved off him. He detached his pauldron and the rest of the armor on that side before unzipping his blacks and sliding his arm out. He watched Helix disinfect the wound as he sat down next to General Kenobi.

“You’ve gone soft,” he said quietly.

“I have not,” Helix retorted, now wrapping a bandage around his arm. “I simply recognized the most efficient way of keeping you here.” Cody laughed but Helix left him in the chair to go check on Trapper, and he observed his General in silence.

He stared at Kenobi’s chest as it gently rose and fell in time with his breathing.

He stared at the freckles strewn across his torso, trying to memorize their constellations as he had so many star charts.

He stared at all the scars littering his skin and something sharp and thorny twisted in his chest as he imagined all the years Kenobi had thrown himself into danger before Cody had managed to make his way to his General’s side.

He stared and he wanted…… well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Cody wanted to keep his General safe, but it was more than that.

The wanting came with images of waking slowly in the morning when there was no war to rush off to. The feeling of skin against skin, unhurried and soft. Making his General laugh and being able to feel the noise by how closely they’re pressed together.

Cody closed his eyes and breathed against the sudden wave of melancholy that rattled against his ribs like they were bars of a cage.

He couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —allow himself to follow that train of thought. They were at war. And even if they weren’t, Kenobi was his commanding officer, a _jetii_. Cody wouldn’t risk his relationship with his General for anything.

He would need to keep every bit of that wanting locked away where he could have no urge to act on it.

He promised himself that it would have to be enough.

__________________________

The next morning, he decided to bring up the topic of Mando’a with his General as soon as he woke up. He needed to soothe away the last bits of worry and make sure that he could justify the faith he had in Kenobi.

When he mentioned it, Kenobi looked sheepish, but assured Cody that he had no intention of deceiving his men, and Cody found that he believed him.

 _“I didn’t want you or your brothers to feel like you needed to hide that bit of yourselves,”_ he said, and the last of Cody’s worry was nowhere to be found.

Their little bubble of understanding calloused into an old wound when they spoke of Geonosis, and when his General’s hand tightened around his own, he did not have to be a jedi to read the determination in those intense blue eyes. He understood. They would both fight and defend their men until their last breath.

The tightness in his chest loosened and the gentle warmth he felt in his General’s presence seeped into his bones. He looked at the hand still in his grasp and reveled in the heat of it against his skin. Cody wanted nothing more than to sit there for a while longer, just like that, but he thought back to what he had promised himself the night before and he gently withdrew his hand until it was in his lap, his fingers oddly cold.

“I should check on the men, now that you’re awake.”

Kenobi looked up from his own hand and nodded, his eyes searching Cody’s. He stood and stretched for a moment, briefly regretting spending the night in a chair, but he grinned at his General.

“Don’t let Helix bully you too badly, sir.”

General Kenobi laughed and threw him a loose, two-fingered salute and Cody turned out of the medbay with his helmet tucked underneath his arm.

He probably should still tell his men to watch what they say, no matter what General Kenobi said. They could be… highly inappropriate on occasion. He made his way down to the barracks, knowing that whatever he said there would eventually get to every _vod_ on the _Negotiator_ in a couple of hours.

He stepped inside the door to Barrack One and was immediately accosted by Waxer carrying a pile of datapads.

“For you, sir.”

Waxer was not the least bit careful as he tipped them into Cody’s hands, and he held back a wince when one of them dug into his injured arm. “That’s for getting me stuck with the debrief, sir.”

Cody demurred, “Blame Helix.”

Waxer snorted but stepped back to whisper something into Boil’s ear that had him laughing. Cody ignored them but he raised his fingers to his lips and let out his shrillest whistle to get the attention of every trooper in Barrack One. Everyone within ten feet of him winced, including Waxer and Boil.

Once he felt a sufficient number of eyes on him, he raised his voice loud enough to be heard.

“I’m here to tell you all to knock off the _ tiin’la joha _in open areas.”

Grumbling whispers broke out and a voice from the back spoke up. “It’s never been an issue before!”

Cody grinned, “That was before I discovered that the General spoke Mando’a.”

He saw several troopers pale at his words, and he was unsure if it was because General Kenobi could report them for overheard conversations, or that he had possibly witnessed them discussing his own attractiveness.

It wasn’t like Cody had given them a free pass. He had reprimanded his troopers before about saying inappropriate things out of principle. Now he considered it payback to watch them squirm because he knew Kenobi wouldn’t report them.

Then a voice cut in through the murmur, “Is the next mission off-world, sir?”

“Unfortunately not, Bara. There’s a Separatist warlord still on the planet, and we—along with the 501st and the 41st—will be assisting in bringing him in. He has information that, if captured, would be invaluable to the Republic.”

He saw a few of the men smile grimly. They didn’t want to return to Geonosis any more than he did, but they understood the value of any advantage they could get against the Separatists.

After that he left the barracks and made his way up to the bridge to check in. He found General Skywalker hunched over the holotable, and as Cody looked at him, he noticed that the jedi appeared rather shaken. He looked up and spotted Cody, his shoulders straightening.

“Commander. How’s Obi Wan?”

“He’s recovering but he’ll be fine, sir.” He looked a bit longer at Skywalker, at the tense set of his shoulders. “But I think he would appreciate some distraction, sir. I know he protests being confined to the medbay.”

General Skywalker smiled hesitantly and nodded. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll make sure to pay him a visit.”

The next morning, Cody wandered into the medbay with a cup of tea in one hand and caf in the other. He handed the tea over to Kenobi, who was trying hard not to let his annoyance at being kept in the medbay show. Everything appeared to be healed save for the brace that was still wrapped around his ankle.

“Unfortunately it’s just the mess hall tea, sir, but I felt uncomfortable with searching your quarters for your own variety.”

Kenobi grinned, “It is no problem, Commander, thank you. I should be up and about as soon as Helix lets me remove this ridiculous brace.”

The medic in question strode into the room and looked at them both, annoyed. “It’s not ridiculous if it helps you keep your weight off of it while it heals. But yes,” he sighed, “It has been on for the minimum amount of time I can require you to keep it, and I’m assuming you would like it removed?”

Kenobi made a face like an innocent baby tooka, and Cody was forced to look away to keep from laughing.

“Yes please.”

The General sipped his tea with one hand, and with the other he reached for his armor which was sitting on one of the small bedside tables. While Helix released the brace from around his ankle, Cody helped him work the closures on his bracers, and then held his tea while he slipped the chestplate over his head. Helix was studying him curiously, but when Cody shot him a look he only shook his head. The General slid off the bed after he reattached his greaves and boots, stretching his arms high.

They both turned to leave the medbay when Helix stopped Cody, “I would appreciate looking at your arm one last time before you leave for your mission.”

Cody glanced at General Kenobi out of the corner of his eye and they shared a long-suffering look. “I’ll catch up with you soon, sir, you should check in with the other generals.” He nodded and left the medbay with the door swishing closed behind him.

Helix pushed Cody to sit on one of the nearby beds and remove a portion of his armor and blacks so he could check on the nearly-healed wound. Cody sat silently for a moment before he turned to look at his brother.

“Have I healed to your specifications?”

Helix nodded after surveying the wound. “Yeah, you’ll be fine in a few hours.”

Cody thought about what he had seen and he looked at Helix strangely.

“What was that about with the General’s armor? You can’t have been worried about the dirt—I know you’ve seen worse.”

Helix didn’t say anything while he helped Cody zip up his blacks and then he turned to throw out the old bandages. When they were done, Helix didn’t look at him, but his voice was oddly casual.

“What do you remember about the stories Jango told us when we were cadets?”

“I remember that after he told us everything about battle strategy he moved on to folktales and customs. I suppose it was difficult to come up with enough stories to keep hundreds of children occupied.”

“What about customs concerning armor?”

Cody wracked his brain until he could remember a few phrases about clan ties and the importance of _beskar’gam_ in relation to family, but he had pushed those stories to the back of his mind because he knew the clones would never be given true _ beskar _. Instead he had focused on the _ aliike _ as a tradition he knew they could actually maintain.

“Not much. To be honest I was focused on other things.”

Helix fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve as he responded. “In non-emergency situations, most Mandalorians considered it an insult for anyone other than their immediate family or _ riduur _ to handle their armor.”

It took a minute for what Helix had implied to sink in, and Cody felt his face flush a deep red.

“But I—we’re not—I’ve seen you handle his armor before!”

“Most of the time I either had Skywalker to help me or the General was in danger of bleeding out without medical attention.”

Cody sputtered under Helix’s pointed stare but kept his voice low. “You can’t be suggesting—he’s my CO!”

“I am not suggesting anything _Kote_ , but when it comes to everyone on this ship at the moment, you come the closest.”

Cody snapped his mouth shut from where it had fallen open and he continued to stare at the medic.

“What makes you say that?”

Helix raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that was thoroughly unimpressed.

“ _Kote_ , you spend more time with him than anyone else, except perhaps Skywalker—who might as well be his _ aliit _ for all their _ osik _ about attachment. You spend almost every morning together and you’ve literally carried him off the battlefield twice, now.”

Cody wouldn’t look at him, and his mind was running far ahead of his body. He wanted to protect his General, that was all. Wasn’t it? Just like his soldiers, his _vode_.

But the _wanting,_ the ache inside his ribs to reach out and pull Kenobi close, that was different.

Would his beard be soft like his hair? Would his eyes crease with laughter lines when they woke together in the morning? Would he allow Cody to trace every scar and apologize for each one he was not present for?

Cody wrenched his thoughts back to the present and realized Helix had left him alone to check on Trapper.

The wanting he felt had no place in the war.

He was reminded again why he needed to keep his feelings locked down. He would not risk being pulled from his General’s side just because his emotions couldn’t be kept in check.

__________________________

The next day they were assigned to track down General Unduli and Buzz, who had disappeared trying to find the Geonosian warlord. Despite the fact that Cody would rather be on any other planet (he would even take Felucia, despite Bly’s repeated complaints), the mission reminded him oddly of the first few months of the war. It was just the 212th, Kenobi, and Skywalker.

They followed the blue glow of the Jedi’s lightsabers deeper underground until they encountered the living dead Geonosians who appeared impervious to their blasters. Cody’s anxiety mounted the deeper into the planet they went, and when they reached the throne room he suppressed the shiver that threatened to shake him out of his armor.

For once, he agreed with Skywalker. Something about the Geonosians puppeteering their soldiers after death sent chills skittering down his spine, and he would have much preferred to blow the entire cavern up and be done with it, but Kenobi walked up to the Queen, as calm as could be, while Cody watched from the sidelines. His horror was palpable as they discovered that the hive mind could be extended to living beings as well with the use of a parasitic worm

Cody was tensed to run, one hand on his lamp ready to blind the bugs and the other on his blaster, until he heard his General’s signal. They climbed out of the collapsing tunnels with undead Geonosians at their feet until they had reached the surface. When the gunship came to pick them up, Cody may have made a rude gesture at the planet, but he felt a momentary wash of relief. They were finally leaving Geonosis.

They transported Poggle the Lesser to Coruscant to be interrogated, and the 212th enjoyed a brief few days free of impending battles. He was playing sabacc with Gree when he got the message—they had a lead on Grevious’s location and they were getting ready to move within the hour. Cody jumped at the chance to get the drop on the cyborg, and he gathered the rest of the 212th and met the 501st in the hangar bay.

He did not envy Rex for having to endure Skywalker’s attempt at a stealth mission, but Cody planted himself firmly at Kenobi’s side as they waited for Grevious to take their bait and board the ship. He bristled when he watched the Separatist droids corral Kenobi onto the bridge, but it was his job to watch the docking tunnel and make sure they remained on the ship.

He got General Kenobi’s comm that Grevious was headed their way just as he heard the metallic clanking of limbs on the corridor floor. The Separatist slipped past them until they pinned him down the only way that they could—by piling bodily on top of him. But he shook them off and they caught up with him and Kenobi just as the docking tunnel began to collapse.

Cody was forced to watch his General duel the cyborg as he clung to the side of the tunnel, but then the airlock broke and the vacuum of space tugged violently at his heels.

Then General Kenobi fell, and everything in Cody screamed as he flung out a hand to grab him by the wrist. The fingers on his right hand burned at the added weight of keeping them both in the ship, but there was no way he was letting go. If the void wanted his General, it was getting Cody, too.

But General Gallia arrived just in time to pull them into the ship and close the door behind them. When Kenobi made a move to continue his pursuit of Grevious, she stopped him before Cody had a chance to say the same, and he was grateful for her interference. Instead, they called Skywalker to get them off the crashing Separatist ship in his transport shuttle.

Cody had barely enough time to check in with his men before he and Rex were called to follow Grevious down to the surface with General Kenobi. Rex grabbed a handful of the 501st and joined them as they flew down to Saleucami with AT-TEs and speeder bikes.

Cody could feel his General’s restlessness at coming so close to capturing his foe, and when they split up to cover more ground, he tried to reassure General Kenobi that he trusted his brother to get the job done. To his relief, Kenobi’s expression warmed from the hard lines it had become set in and he praised Rex, too. (What he did not say, but Cody picked up nonetheless, was that Rex’s ability to think on his feet was most likely cultivated while trying to keep General Skywalker in check)

They found Grevious’s escape pod at the same time they were informed that Rex had been injured. This time it was Cody who was restless. Even though he trusted Rex’s men, he couldn’t help but worry until his brother was in a proper medbay.

They engaged Grevious in the meantime, and the Separatist General was able to elude them again. Cody could feel his General’s anger and frustration at the loss, and he gathered up his men to regroup for the approaching gunships. Once they were organized, he walked up to Kenobi and laid a hand on his arm.

“We should make sure that Rex gets back, sir.”

“But Cody, we have to plan for—”

“Our men have all the information. We can make a plan to capture Grevious when we are all back on the ship.” He used his grip to lightly steer Kenobi over to the direction Rex said he would be approaching from. “Let’s just… wait for him.”

“But—” The General looked back at the gunships loading the first few groups of troopers.

Cody decided he would have to use a different strategy. “Would you like to be the one to tell Skywalker we didn’t make absolutely sure that his Captain was okay?”

Kenobi shot him a look of mild terror but didn’t make any further move to leave.

They stood in silence, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. Cody was as near as he dared without succumbing to the urge to hook his fingers in his General’s robes and tug him close. But he knew he couldn’t.

If he acted on any of those urges, he would risk being separated from his _jetii_ , and that was something he couldn’t consider enduring.

__________________________

When Cody heard that General Kenobi was assigned a mission to Mandalore, he was secretly quite jealous. Ever since Helix had brought his attention to the customs he forgot (and the implications of which he had been wrestling with ever since), he had been researching everything he could remember from the stories he heard as a cadet. He knew that Mandalore currently was hostile towards the clones and everything they represented, but Cody wanted to visit at least once before he died.

Unfortunately, it was a mission requested by the Jedi Council, not the Republic, and a clone force was not required. However, when Cody got the news that there had been an attack on the capitol city of Sundari by the Death Watch group, it was all he could do not to stay glued to his comms for any word that their presence was needed. He knew it was unlikely, but he couldn’t help but hope.

He remembered whispers about Death Watch, spoken in hushed tones by the _Cuy’val Dar_ when he was a cadet, and he feared what they would bring to the new, peaceful regime. He had heard about the pacifist ways of Duchess Kryze, and though he did not completely agree with her stance on the war, he could not help but be impressed by the fierce way she defended her people.

Finally, he got a call from Rex that they were needed to escort the Duchess and a contingent of like-minded senators to Coruscant to protest their neutrality in the wake of the attacks. Cody jumped at the chance and ignored Rex’s pointed look at the fact that he was the only member of the 212th assigned to the mission.

They landed on the platforms just outside Sundari and were directed to the right docking bay to board the _Coronet_. On the way they met up with General Kenobi, who seemed unusually tense. They followed Skywalker onto the ship and grouped together in the cargo hold so they could discuss their plans. Cody watched Kenobi closely from over Rex’s shoulder with his arms crossed. He didn’t normally have this much trouble reading his General’s mood.

After the briefing, Cody rode the lift with Rex and their respective generals, and he was suddenly grateful that he was wearing his helmet because the conversation felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured down his back.

“ _Oh, so you’re close to her?”_

_“I knew her… a long time ago.”_

Cody tensed as he listened, blocking off his mind the way he had been taught to do around force users. He didn’t do it often, but he couldn’t let the roiling unease of his thoughts project onto the two jedi. He could feel Rex shoot him a look, but then the lift ride ended and the generals made their way toward the meeting room as Cody and Rex headed back down to the cargo bay to assist with the sweeps.

He had never heard true bitterness in his General’s voice before, but he knew it know.

Knew that it was laced with sadness and that it took ahold of something inside of Cody’s chest and tugged. He didn’t like that tone all. He wanted to sweep it away until he could hear Kenobi’s soft laughter again like when they enjoyed the early morning lull aboard the _Negotiator._

The feeling didn’t go away even as they found themselves battling assassin droids. He fought back to back with Rex as their numbers slowly dwindled. Then they were besieged by a Separatist boarding party and he found himself pinned behind one of the elaborate columns in the hall, watching General Skywalker cut through their ranks with his lightsaber and then disappear.

Once they took out the last of the droids, Cody went to find Skywalker. He glimpsed the familiar robes past some fallen debris in a side corridor, and made his way over, informing him that they had taken care of the threat.

Cody watched his General look at the Duchess, and he could feel the sadness on Kenobi’s face like an open wound. She turned and walked away from him and Cody knew the ache in those blue eyes ran deeper than just a simple friendship. He tried not to let the stiffness in his spine or the tenseness in his hands show, but he had a suspicion Rex noticed.

A few hours later they landed on Coruscant and exited the ship ahead of the senators, encircling the landing platform just in case any more assassins made further attacks. But this meant Cody had an excellent view of the Duchess reaching out to touch Kenobi’s face as she ran her fingers over the line of his cheek and beard. Cody watched her turn away and he almost couldn’t stomach seeing the shadow of sadness and longing on his General’s face.

He never wanted to see that look again.

His General spent too much of his time worrying—about Skywalker, about Tano, about his men, even on occasion about Cody. He wanted to give Kenobi reassurance. Wanted to make him smile when all Cody could see was sadness.

The look on his General’s face lingered in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

That night, after debriefing with the rest of the men and moving what little he had from the _Negotiator_ to the barracks, he took Rex up on his offer to go out into Coruscant for the night. He didn’t do it often, but Rex had been insistent.

Soon they were tucked into a table in the back of 79’s and the room was turning fuzzy around the edges. Cody nursed a glass of something (he had let Rex order and was trying not to consider that a mistake) and tried to wash away the memory of sadness on his General’s face.

Some of the 501st and the 212th filtered in and out, but they knew in some capacity that Rex and Cody wanted to be left alone, and they didn’t linger. They drank and talked for close to an hour before Cody’s second glass was nearly empty and his durasteel grasp on his emotions was slipping through his fingers.

Rex went quiet after he finished telling a story about a prank Fives and Echo had orchestrated that left Kix murderous and covered in glitter. After a moment he set down his drink with a thud and poked a finger hard into Cody’s shoulder.

“ _Kote._ _ Rejorhaa'i ni.” _

Without his permission, Cody felt words spilling out of his mouth like a dam overflowing as he stared into the grains of the wooden tabletop.

“He looked so sad Rex. Don’t like to see him like that. Don’t like to see him hurt.”

Rex sighed and ran a hand over his short hair. “You can protect him on the battlefield, but you can’t hope to protect him everywhere else.”

“I can try,” Cody responded, and even in his muddled state he could tell it sounded petulant.

“ _Kote,_ I know you see him as your responsibility, but—”

“No,” he replied vehemently, “It’s more than that, _Rex’ika_. I want to make him smile when he’s sad. He’s too sad all the time. And he worries about the men maybe more than I do, can you imagine?”

Rex watched him, his eyes wide and startled as Cody continued to ramble, drowning in the emotions he had kept under lock and key for so long.

“He gave Crys tips on how to dye his hair, and he asked Cookie about his recipes just because he wanted to know. Whenever someone is injured he gets this look, like he wants to fight the whole war on his own to make sure no one else gets hurt.” Cody giggled, “But then, he makes a face like a baby bantha whenever Helix tries to help him, because he says we need it more. It’s adorable.

“He shouldn’t be adorable, he’s my General. _ Ner jetii." _

Rex pushed his drink away and leaned down until his forehead was resting on the tabletop. He pulled Cody’s drink away from him without looking at it, though Cody himself was too deep in memory to bother noticing.

Cody saw Kenobi in his brown robes, soaking wet and wandering the white hallways of Kamino. He looked so small and lost, then.

He saw his General in the corridor of the _Coronet_ , watching the Duchess walk away, armored and strong but still so lost.

They had been… something, he could tell. And old wounds had been torn open after so many years apart.

Cody could not be what she had been. For one thing, the chain of command hung over both their heads. The Republic didn’t even recognize Cody as a person.

But he thought about sharing a cup of tea in his General’s quarters. Providing comfort in their shared tent after a nightmare. The two of them laughing with exhaustion after a long campaign.

Those were things he could do.

Cody could be support and comfort and a hand when it was needed… but that _wanting_ ache that lived in chest pushed him to do more…

“I just want him to be happy, Rex.”

His brother lifted his head from the tabletop and looked at him with a different kind of sadness swimming in his eyes. “Oh _Kote_ , what have you done. You’ve gone and fallen for him.”

But Cody’s mind was too muddled with drink and emotion to listen, and Rex slid out of the booth and tugged him out of his seat. He threw Cody’s arm over his shoulder and slid the bartender some credits before walking them out the door.

__________________________

The next morning was a wash between his pounding headache and way his tongue felt like it was made of bantha wool. Cody was busy resupplying the _Negotiator_ for the day and avoiding Rex like the plague. He couldn’t remember every detail from the night before, but there was a residual sense of dread that he couldn’t put his finger on. He didn’t need Rex to remind him of any stupid _osik_ he might have said.

By the end of the day he crashed in his bunk, feeling a kind of exhaustion he hadn’t experienced in ages. There were so many karking crates and the repetitive lull of a day off meant there was no boost of adrenaline to help him push through.

Cody realized he hadn’t heard from General Kenobi all day, which wasn’t completely unusual (they were on Coruscant, after all, with a few days between missions) but he had received the datapads for their next assignment earlier that day and hadn’t heard a word from him. Cody resolved to wait until the following morning, and if he hadn’t heard anything, he would check in.

In the morning he swiped a cup of caf from the mess hall before he was fully awake. An idea crept into his mind as he sat drinking it mechanically. Cody dressed in his civvy greys so as not to draw too much attention to himself and headed out into Coruscant. He made toward a market Fox had mentioned to him once: good for bartering and diverse enough that clones didn’t raise too many eyebrows.

He had a half-formed idea in the back of his head. Something about last night. He needed to do something for his General… he didn’t like seeing him sad.

Cody liked seeing him content. There was something about the stillness of the morning on the days when they didn’t have anywhere to rush off to that caused a thread of warmth to curl around them.

He found the market with little difficulty and stepped into a tea shop tucked under a wide awning. Cody skimmed the various kinds, looking at flavors and scents and caffeine. He knew off-handedly what kind of tea his General liked after observing him at political functions, and one late-night conversation when a slightly tipsy Kenobi had told him all about how his old master had attempted to teach him how to conduct a full tea ceremony. (He confessed that he thought the routine calming now, but had found it unendingly tedious when he was a padawan)

But Cody was looking for something unique, and once he found the right one he passed the vendor his credits as they packaged it up for him. He ducked back out into the market and made his way toward the Jedi Temple with his little parcel, but he paused once he stepped through the massive front doors. The only places Cody had been before were a handful of briefing rooms and, one time, the refectory. Now he didn’t know where to go.

After a few moments one of the masked Temple guards peeled away from their position near the door and asked if he required assistance.

Cody took the hat from his head and tucked it under an arm like he would his helmet, “I’m looking for General Kenobi.”

The Guard nodded, “Your name?”

“Commander Cody.”

The Guard’s helmet appeared to have some internal communication device because they were silent for a minute before turning back to Cody.

“He has been notified.”

The Guard nodded again and then retreated to their post by the door. Cody rocked on his heels for a moment and he slowly wandered out into the main hall, staring up at the impossibly high ceiling. There were a few _jetiise_ wandering about on the main floor and the balcony, but it appeared to be a quiet day. Cody was examining one of the columns when he felt someone approaching and he turned to see General Kenobi striding toward him.

He looked surprised, but agitation still lingered in the line of his shoulders and his hands were tucked into the sleeves of his robe like Cody knew he did when he was trying to conceal the twitching of his fingers. He ran his eyes down the length of his General’s body habitually to check for injuries, but didn’t see anything amiss.

“Hello, Cody. Is anything wrong?”

The words stuck in Cody’s throat, but he didn’t want to lie. Even though he was still deciphering the whirlwind of feelings in his head, the last thing he wanted was to deceive his General.

“No sir… I wanted to check on you.” His words were hushed but he could tell Kenobi heard them by the softening of the hard lines around his eyes. He gave Cody a short nod.

“Thank you, Commander, but I’m fine.”

Cody didn’t move.

“ _Sir._ ”

He laced the word with as much admonishment as he dared. He didn’t care that he was in the middle of the Jedi Temple, he wasn’t going to leave his General now that he could tell that there was something bothering him.

Kenobi’s shoulders slumped slightly and he pulled a hand out of his sleeve to run it over his face. He looked up and caught Cody’s eye, and as he did so a bizarre urge bubbled up in his chest to throw his arms around the man and pull him close, but he tamped it down.

General Kenobi gestured for him to follow and they walked down a series of twisting corridors until he stopped in front of a door and keyed in a passcode. It slid open and they both stepped inside.

Kenobi sat heavily on a small couch in the middle of the room and ran a hand through his hair as Cody looked around. The little living space was sparsely furnished but felt very lived-in. There was a blanket thrown over the back of the couch that looked old but worn into softness. A plant hung from one of the curtain rods and trailed over a low bookshelf. There were a handful of real flimsi books piled on top of it, their spines cracked and bent, along with a smattering of datapads.

He stared at a mug on one of the tables with old tea rings littering the inside before walking over and picking it up, setting down his hat in its place.

Cody walked into the tiny kitchen and placed the mug in the sink. He filled the kettle and turned on the stove before going through one of the cabinets until he found a teapot with faded paint and a set of chipped mugs. He took the package of tea out of his pocket and when the kettle began a low whistle he portioned some into the pot.

Making sure to get the correct steeping time, he poured out two cups and wandered back into the living room. He held out one of the mugs and General Kenobi startled like he had forgotten Cody was there. He looked at the mug curiously and then at Cody.

“For you, sir.”

Kenobi took it with a small smile and Cody settled against the doorway to the kitchen. His General sniffed the tea and his eyes went wide.

“Where did you get this, Cody?”

“Coruscant.” He could feel his cheeks tinge pink at the attention. “It has cocoa nibs and chili in it, I thought you might like it.”

General Kenobi took a sip and Cody saw the first genuine smile in days.

“It’s delicious.”

Some of the tension slipped out of the _jetii_ ’s body and Cody hid his own smile by taking a sip of the tea. It was quite good: subtly sweet from the cocoa but with just the faintest hint of heat in the back of his throat from the chili. Kenobi drank and sagged into the couch, then looked at Cody out of the corner of his eye and sighed.

“I would be a fool to think you hadn’t noticed I’ve been rather on-edge lately.” Cody could see his thumb making little swipes across the side of his mug. “Decisions I made in the past have come back to haunt me, and some old wounds just don’t...” He trailed off, staring into his tea.

“You don’t need to explain, sir.” Cody took a deep breath of his own, “You’re right, I noticed something was off the past couple of days, but… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Kenobi didn’t say anything for a while, but when he did it was almost too quiet to catch.

“Thank you very much, my dear.”

Cody wasn’t sure if he heard his General correctly, but his blush returned in full and he took another sip of tea to cover it. He remembered a fragment of conversation from the night before—his own voice mumbling, “ _Ner jetii”…_

Cody fought to keep his face neutral as the memory slammed into him with the force of a speeder.

Kenobi didn’t seem to notice, but he raised an eyebrow and gestured to the couch.

“You can sit down, you know.”

Cody looked desperately at the chair next to the couch, but it was buried under a pile of brown robes. He shuffled his way over and hesitantly sat next to his General, making sure to keep a modicum of space between them on the cushions. Kenobi smiled softly over his mug.

“Thank you for the tea, Cody. It really is rather good.”

“It’s nothing, sir. I’m glad you like it.”

General Kenobi shifted on the couch to look at him. “I do have one request, though.”

Cody turned to meet his gaze. “Anything, sir.”

“I think we have spent enough time together that you can call me Obi Wan.”

Cody stared at his General as his brain worked to process the words. From this close he could see the spray of freckles that disappeared into his beard and the faint scar across his cheek that he got crashing into the dusty surface of Geonosis. Cody kept a tight hold on the thoughts in his head that threatened to spiral out of control. It would be so easy to slip an arm around him and pull them closer, or to duck his head and press their lips together.

The thought seared the inside of his eyelids with all the things he couldn’t have.

He knew he couldn’t, but that didn’t stop the _wanting._

But his General didn’t need that right now. Cody had come to make sure he was okay—make sure _Obi Wan_ was okay. And in this instance, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Alright… Obi Wan.”

General Kenobi’s smile was like the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Al'verde, gar kadala_ : Commander, you're hurt.  
>  _Gar copaani taylir kaysh ibic gebi?_ : You want to keep him that close?  
>  _Mir'sheb_ : Smartass  
>  _tiin'la joha_ : coarse language  
>  _beskar_ : a type of metal mined and shaped on Mandalore  
>  _aliike_ : symbols, specifically on armor  
>  _riduur_ : spouse  
>  _aliit_ : family  
>  _osik_ : shit  
>  _Rejorhaa'i ni_ : Tell me  
>  _ner jetii_ : my jedi
> 
> The tea Cody gives Obi Wan is [real](https://august.la/collections/tea/products/painted-desert) and it is delicious. I've been trying to ration my own bag for about 2 years now.
> 
> Broke: Obi Wan runs out of robes because he keeps loosing them on the battlefield.  
> Woke: Obi Wan has an infinite supply of robes and nobody can figure out where they're coming from.
> 
> Also, Cody's love language is 100% acts of service
> 
> (I'm just realizing now that this chapter might be me projecting my touch-starved quarantine ass on Cody. I am a tactile person goddamnit and I haven't hugged anyone in MONTHS)


	7. Obi Wan does some thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan Kenobi: conductor of The Pain Train™. (Obi Wan is such a sad boy that it bleeds into all his chapters [insert quote from _Labyrinth of Evil_ here], but he has his soft moments too)
> 
> In this universe Obi Wan absolutely liked Cody as soon as he saw him but he told himself "It's just a crush, it'll pass soon enough"... and then it _didn't_.

Being on Geonosis had been hard, but leaving it was one of the easiest things Obi Wan had ever done.

When they stood in an underground cavern in front of the Geonosian Queen, his curiosity had been interrupted by the wave of unease emanating from Cody where he was waiting for his signal in the shadows. Obi Wan noticed that he had become more in-tune with his Commander’s force signature than with the other men in his battalion, and the voice in his head whispered _attachment_ more frequently than he would like.

But it was useful. Cody’s calming warmth lingered in the back of his mind whenever they were together, and Obi Wan knew he had thoroughly broken his own promise not to become reliant on his Commander.

When he had nearly been sucked out of an airlock chasing after General Grievous, he felt Cody’s distress like a physical blow and he’d thrown out an arm. He was caught by the wrist and held there against the vacuum of space. Looking up, he couldn’t see Cody’s face, but he could picture his look of wide-eyed alarm as he determinedly held them both inside the collapsing docking tunnel.

Obi Wan nearly let his single-mindedness cloud his judgement as he hurried to capture Grievous, but when he escaped from Saleucami it was Cody who pulled him aside and made him take a breath. They stood in stillness, waiting for Captain Rex as the rising sun threw long shadows across the ground. Obi Wan soaked in Cody’s steady support.

His Commander was thinking. Always thinking. Always working through a strategy or worrying about the _vode_. Their early morning lulls were always full of either complex planning or thoughtful silences.

Obi Wan noticed that recently, over their cups of tea and caf, Cody would bring him food. The Commander had always gotten something for himself, but now he either shared what was on his tray or brought something small for him on the side. He never pushed him to eat it, but Obi Wan had always been one to graze from whatever was in front of him, and it appeared Cody had noticed and was taking advantage of that fact. Sometimes when they were huddled around the holomap after a long conference he would pull a ration bar out of one of his pockets and break it into pieces, passing them off without thought. One for himself and one for Obi Wan.

To say that Obi Wan was grateful would be an understatement.

The longer the war went on, the more he felt like he was being pulled in several different directions at once. He felt his obligations to the Jedi as a peacekeeper more keenly then ever during their endless, brutal campaigns. But he also wanted to support the clones, and he knew Cody had better things to do than to take care of him _._

Obi Wan would never ask him to leave, though. His presence had become too much of a comfort and his strategies invaluable on the battlefield. But that didn’t prevent him from wishing he could do more for Cody and his brothers.

________________________

Obi Wan held his breath when he was assigned a mission to Mandalore. When confronted with Satine after so many years, he felt close to buckling under the wave of emotions he had been suppressing; under the choices Obi Wan made that he knew were right but that never stopped him from wondering.

She never asked him to stay and so he allowed himself to leave.

Now, finding themselves on opposite sides of a war, they had become too combative for their own good. Obi Wan still loved her—he didn’t think Satine was someone he would ever stop loving—but he was unwilling to stand idly by as the Separatists stormed through every planet in their way. He initially didn’t believe Satine could either, but the more she clung to her pacifism, the more he was forced to defend his own choices.

Obi Wan thought about the destruction he had witnessed firsthand on countless worlds caught in a conflict the galaxy desperately did not need. He thought about the empty houses on Ryloth, of Numa clinging to her doll and then running to pull him out of the path of a laser cannon. The war had forced too many children to grow up far too quickly, and Obi Wan held onto his support of the Republic for _them_. For the innocent people ravaged by war. For his own men who had been trained from birth to fight and who he wished more than anything had the choice to walk away.

He never wanted to fight, but he would if it meant keeping them safe.

Even so, after they landed on Coruscant and Satine was falsely accused of organizing the Death Watch, he did not hesitate to help her. He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt in what he was quite sure was their attempt to take control of Mandalore.

He watched her board her ship not long after her name was cleared, and the sad smile she gave him tugged at his heart with a dull ache. As Obi Wan walked back to the Jedi Temple he took his time, meandering through the docking bays and past the GAR barracks. He ordered his thoughts as he walked, tucking old grief and bitterness away where he could meditate on them at a later date, tired and strung out from all the rattling inside his head. But the more he concentrated, the more he noticed that there was something wrong.

Something was missing.

Obi Wan focused on the absence and abruptly realized that he couldn’t sense Cody’s mind.

He nearly missed a step as he climbed up to the front door of the Temple. Once inside he automatically turned down the corridor that would take him to his rooms. He thought hard about the past few days—ever since he rejoined Cody and the 501st on the _Coronet_ his Commander had been shielding from him. Obi Wan remembered wondering briefly if something had happened, but Cody showed no other signs of distress before they were swept up in the attempted kidnapping of the Duchess and subsequent Separatist frame-up.

Obi Wan collapsed onto his bed the moment he walked through the door. He admonished himself for not noticing sooner, but Cody was entitled to his own thoughts. Obi Wan had no right to stop him from shielding his mind, and his Commander never did anything without reason.

He drifted off that night wondering if that reason was somehow his fault.

Obi Wan spent the next day flitting from meeting to meeting, acknowledging the report on his next mission with nothing more than a vague nod. The longer he went without any sign of Cody the more he realized how closely he had been attuned to his presence. He constantly poked at the void in his mind as though it were a missing tooth, something he hadn’t noticed was there until the space it occupied was left empty.

There was an ache in his chest like an old bruise. He missed his Commander’s warmth and his steady presence where it had made a home in his head.

The day came and went with no word and a kind of nervous tension settled underneath his skin, making it difficult to fall asleep that night. The next morning he made himself tea and drank it alone at his little table. In order to quiet his lingering agitation, he made his way to the archives, extended a warm greeting to Madame Nu, and set to work researching the specifics of his next mission.

He had only been there for an hour or so when he heard a commlink go off at the librarian’s desk and moments later she came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You have a visitor, Obi Wan.” There was a glimmer in her eye where there had not been before.

“Here in the Temple?”

She nodded. “A Commander Cody is waiting for you in the main hall.”

Obi Wan kept his face neutral as his heart hammered against his ribs, but he powered down the terminal he was using as casually as possible. He stood and thanked Madame Nu, making his way out of the archives and towards the main hall.

He tucked his hands into his sleeves to hide his anxiety as he walked up to Cody. Unease wrapped like a durasteel band around his chest as his Commander stood in front of him completely devoid of the usual feel of his mind like a warm breeze in the air. Obi Wan felt cold in a way he didn’t know he could be.

But as he tried to assure Cody that he was fine, he felt the Commander’s emotions stir for the first time in days and worry blossomed into the force, sharpening until he was engulfed by a familiar spotlight. Obi Wan was unsure Cody even knew he was doing it, but the concern curled around him and his shoulders sagged in relief. He covered his face with his hand to hide his expression but turned and gestured for Cody to follow him back to his rooms.

He immediately made for the couch once they were inside, sinking into the cushions as he felt his Commander’s attention seep into the void it had left behind. Obi Wan vaguely heard Cody moving around the apartment, but the tension in his bones eased the more his Commander’s familiar, steady presence filled the space. His thoughts snagged on the imagined scenario of Cody in his rooms for more personal reasons, and he was thankfully wrenched out of his hopeful subconscious by the cup of tea that suddenly appeared in front of him.

He was touched by Cody’s thoughtfulness, as he had been nearly every day since meeting him. He was the epitome of the protector Obi Wan tried to be. Recent events had made him consider more closely the role of the Jedi in the war, and no matter how many times Cody had reassured him that he was doing more good than bad, he couldn’t help but think that the core tenets of the Jedi were being slowly worn away by the constant conflict.

 _I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers,_ Satine had said, her airy tone as cutting as any blade.

Of course Cody had noticed. And of course he tried to comfort Obi Wan, accepting his answers and not pushing him to explain. Obi Wan didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such a man, but he did know it was getting harder and harder to focus on viewing Cody solely as his capable and stoic Commander.

Cody gingerly sat beside him on the couch and Obi Wan ignored his desire to lean closer as his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

Then Cody said his name so hesitantly, savoring it like it was something forbidden, and Obi Wan branded the sound of it into his memory.

________________________

Within a week they were off on a diplomatic mission to Orto Plutonia to check on the progress of Republic integration among the Talz tribe there. The Republic wanted the assistance of someone who was familiar with the people, and they delegated the task to Obi Wan and the 212th.

Cody and his men stocked up on their modified cold weather gear before they left Coruscant. Obi Wan dug his own insulated parka and his warmest tunics out of storage, shivering preemptively when he thought about his last visit to the ice world. He had visited various arctic planets over the years, and though he had learned how to keep warm well enough, the cold always found ways to slip in no matter how many layers he wore.

The morning they were due to meet Chieftain Thi-Sen on the surface, Obi Wan found Cody reading from a datapad when he walked into the mess hall with his usual cup of tea. He leaned over his Commander’s shoulder, indulging himself briefly by pressing his body to the line of Cody’s armored back in order to glimpse the screen. He was reading about Orto Plutonia.

Obi Wan moved away and took his seat across the table. “I thought you’d already read the mission brief?”

Cody set the datapad down and looked up, “I did, but I wanted to know more about the planet itself. I didn’t want to rely on Rex’s somewhat biased account of your previous trip.”

“Oh?”

“He called it a ‘miserable iceball full of ghosts where we nearly got involved in another war’.”

Obi Wan laughed and felt Cody’s warm grin in response. “He’s not incorrect. It is, quite rightly, an iceball.”

“We were trained for extreme temperatures on Kamino, but,” Cody paused and Obi Wan could tell he was remembering unpleasant experiences. “I have spent little time on ice planets since.”

He slid his tray of food forward until it sat between them and he picked at the baked egg-substitute. Obi Wan noticed that he had brought two forks to the table and he took one of them, grinning softly. Cody looked satisfied after he ate a good portion of it. When the tray was picked clean, he cleared it away and returned, offering Obi Wan some kind of savory pastry that looked slightly lopsided where it sat in his palm.

“Cookie is trying out some new recipes. They look rough but they’re really quite tasty.”

Obi Wan’s first instinct was to protest, but Cody leaned in, taking one of his hands gently and placing the pastry in it before pulling away.

“Please, sir. You’ll need to keep your energy up to stay warm on this mission.”

Obi Wan fought to control the blush that was creeping up the back of his neck, but he nodded and swallowed roughly.

Within the next half-hour they were bundled up tightly and organized in the hangar bay awaiting the go-ahead to take the shuttles down to the surface. While Cody gave a brief overview of their objective, Obi Wan attempted to eat the pastry that he had been saving.

He was having trouble getting it into his mouth around the fur lining of his hood.

There were a few stifled chuckles at his expense, and when Cody turned to look at him Obi Wan assumed an expression he hoped was innocent. When he finally managed to get a bite of the pastry he could feel Cody roll his eyes beneath his helmet, but the fondness seeping into the force made his breath catch.

He hid his own grin behind the pastry as he savored both the feeling and the food. Soon they were cleared to leave for the surface and they piled into the gunships one by one. The temperature dropped the closer they got and Obi Wan noticed the slight movement of troopers inching closer together in order to preserve body heat. He subtly stepped nearer to Cody even though he wasn’t very cold.

They reached the village by early evening, though the sun was not visible through the dense stormclouds hanging overhead. Senator Chuchi had left the Talz with a protocol droid on one of her previous visits, so when they met one of the representatives at the entrance to the canyon they could communicate without the use of slates.

The protocol droid translated as the Talz asked who among them was the leader. Obi Wan stepped forward and he felt Cody move with him, staying just off his right shoulder.

“We are here on behalf of the Republic Senate,” he stated, keeping his voice clear and steady above the noise of the wind. “We have been sent to speak with Chieftain Thi-Sen.”

The Talz looked at them and then at the handful of troopers standing at attention before making a chuffing noise and gesturing for them to follow.

They reached the main tent when the representative stopped, warbling something and gesturing to the troopers. The droid turned to them in response.

“Representative Hal’ron requests that your men wait outside while you speak with the Chieftain.” Obi Wan nodded and Cody turned to the troopers.

“At ease, men. This should be a quick and easy mission.”

They snapped out simultaneous salutes as the Jedi and Commander ducked under the hide door and into the tent. The negotiations themselves were surprisingly painless—after Chieftain Thi-Sen lifted Obi Wan into a hug that made his ribs creak, they discovered that Senator Chuchi had made much progress in taking the needs of the Talz into account when arranging trade agreements.

After about an hour, Obi Wan and Cody got to their feet again. “Thank you very much Chieftain Thi-Sen. We must be going, but we will bring news of your people back to the Senate.”

The Chieftan shook his head, warbling at the droid who shuffled forward. “The Great Thi-Sen wishes to inform you that there is an impending ice storm that will make it quite impossible for you to leave the canyon, but he is willing to house you and your men for the night.”

Cody turned to Obi Wan for confirmation and he nodded briefly—the Talz had not been hostile since their first encounter with Chairman Cho and Obi Wan could sense nothing but sincerity in their actions.

Cody turned back to Thi-Sen and bowed. “Thank you, sir, for sheltering my men. I owe you my gratitude.”

The Chieftan chuffed something that sounded like a laugh and then stepped forward to lift Cody into a hug just as tight as the one he had given Obi Wan. He seemed dazed when he was set back down.

The droid listened to Thi-Sen speak for a moment before gesturing to the door of the tent. “If your men would like to come in and join the Talz, they will be eating latemeal soon.”

Obi Wan and Cody stepped out of the tent just long enough to motion their men inside, and then they retreated to the warmth of the fire burning in the central hearth. Soon various members of the tribe also filed in and an enormous pot of stew was lifted over the fire. It was passed around to the Talz as well as the very grateful troopers.

Obi Wan sat between Cody and Thi-Sen as they enjoyed the stew, which had gamey but tender meat and lots of mushrooms. The protocol droid wandered from person to person, translating snippets of conversation.

He and Cody watched a handful of children wander over to the troopers; Waxer in particular looked thrilled by the development. They had removed their helmets and one Talz child was examining Waaxer’s ear curiously, while another one was tracing the markings on Wooley’s armor with fascination.

The contentment saturating the force made Obi Wan grin, watching his men interact with the Talz was a quiet moment he wished he could see more of in the war. There were too many Republic-aligned worlds that still saw the clone troopers as things to be feared rather than men fighting for their safety.

Cody was keeping to himself as he normally did, but as Obi Wan watched, a small Talz child tripped over the rough stone floor in front of them and his Commander didn’t hesitate to catch her and lift her onto his lap. She trilled happily and Cody’s soft grin lit up his face.

Obi Wan’s heart stuttered in his chest and he wondered distantly if Cody would like to visit the creches with him. He would do well with the children. He would be a good teacher.

He caught Thi-Sen looking at him and turned to acknowledge the Chieftain.

“Thank you again for your hospitality.”

The protocol droid wandered over and took its place beside the Talz. “The Great Thi-Sen says it is no trouble at all, Master Jedi. After the meal is done Hal’ron will show your men to the tents.”

Obi Wan nodded and his gaze slid back to Cody, who was holding his helmet up for the girl to examine. He could hear the quiet murmur of his voice even though they both knew she couldn’t understand him. Cody spoke about the meaning of various colors in a low, fluid ramble and both he and the girl radiated ease and calm.

The bowls were slowly cleared away and the Talz warbled their goodnights to Thi-Sen, collecting sleepy children and heading out to their own tents. Representative Hal’ron gestured to the troopers to follow him to where they were to be housed for the night, and Obi Wan and Cody rose to join them, only to be stopped by the protocol droid.

“Chieftain Thi-Sen has prepared separate quarters for you and your partner, Master Jedi, as the leaders of your company.”

Obi Wan felt his cheeks heat and he cut a quick glance at Cody, who appeared to be similarly startled. He conveyed the question with a raised eyebrow—he would not accept the offer without his Commander’s approval—and he saw Cody swallow before stepping forward.

He nodded, helmet beneath his arm, and addressed the Chieftain. “Of course. Thank you, sir.”

Thi-Sen chuffed happily then said something to the protocol droid, who motioned for them to follow. Obi Wan pulled his hood back up to block the cold and the knowing smirks of his men from view, and he assumed Cody shoved his helmet over his head for much the same reason. The wind was biting on their short walk from the main tent to a smaller one tucked in against the canyon wall. The droid pulled back the flap at the entrance to reveal a small room with a single large bed.

The hide walls of the tent did a good job of keeping the worst of the cold out, but Thi-Sen appeared to have supplemented their non-Talz constitutions by piling the bed with narglatch pelts.

The droid turned to them. “Chieftain Thi-Sen hopes the arrangement is comfortable for you, sirs. He requests to meet with you in the main tent before you depart in the morning. Is there anything else you require?”

Obi Wan glanced at Cody again, whose helmeted face was staring at the bed blankly.

“No, thank you. We should be alright.”

The droid bowed and shuffled back out into the frigid night.

“Cody?”

His Commander made a noise of acknowledgement, removing his helmet without taking his eyes off the bed. Obi Wan caught the quick flick of his gaze to the dirt floor and back again. He sighed.

“Cody, if you even think about sleeping on the floor I will knock you out and put you in the bed myself.”

His Commander’s cheeks flushed and Obi Wan thought perhaps he had misinterpreted the action, but then his mouth twitched into a small smile.

“I don’t know sir. I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.”

Obi Wan snorted and moved toward the bed.

“What about your reputation, my Commander? Many people think that sleeping with a Jedi is the height of forbidden romance.”

Now Cody was laughing. “Come to think about it, that would make me pretty famous in certain circles.”

His steps faltered and he could see Cody attempting to smother his chuckles.

“I dread to think what circles those may be, Cody, but I do think either way we both need sleep tonight.”

He turned his back on his Commander to remove his boots and outer layer of restricting snow gear. He could hear the gentle _thunks_ of Cody setting down pieces of his cold weather armor on the low table next to the bed. After a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the walls of the tent, they slid under the furs on the bed.

It was large enough that they could settle comfortably without touching, and Obi Wan was both grateful and annoyed at that fact.

He felt Cody shuffle to get comfortable on the bed, rolling onto his side with his back to Obi Wan, but he himself remained stuck in place. Obi Wan stared at the ceiling of the tent, knowing that he needed sleep but not being able to reach it through the mire of his thoughts. He closed his eyes and settled into a light meditation as he listened to the storm rage just outside the canyon walls.

Across the half a foot of space between them, Obi Wan felt the bed tremble just the slightest bit, and if he strained his mind in the force he could pick up the tendrils of discomfort that his Commander was trying to hide. He opened his eyes, shifting under the pelts and tentatively reaching out a hand until it settled between Cody’s shoulder blades. He jumped at the contact and Obi Wan could feel muscles tense beneath his palm.

“Are you alright?”

“Just fine, sir,” Cody bit out, curling into himself slightly.

“Cody, are you cold?”

The pause was just a hair too long before he responded.

“No sir.”

Obi Wan conducted a brief argument inside his head. His Commander was just inches away, it would take nothing at all to pull him close and wrap his arms around him to share their body heat, but the desire to lean down and press their lips together was so strong that it momentarily startled him. Obi Wan closed his eyes and took a deep and shuddering breath.

He was in no position to ruin the relationship he had with his Commander; it was something he cherished more than anything. If he couldn’t keep his feelings in check he would drag Cody down with him, and his fiercely loyal Commander didn’t deserve that.

Then Cody shivered again and Obi Wan made up his mind. He was in a position to help and Obi Wan was not going to let his personal feelings prevent that.

“Cody, come here.”

He hesitated but didn’t move.

“Cody, do not make me invoke my position as General and order my Commander to cuddle with me. It is beneath both of us.”

This time when Cody shook it was with suppressed laughter.

“Is it really, though?”

Obi Wan smiled but he plucked at the fabric of his Commander’s blacks. “Perhaps not, but please Cody, just come here. It’s rather cold and we would both do well to share our body heat for the night.”

He couldn’t see much in the gloom of the tent but he felt Cody roll to face him and shuffle until he was just inches away. Moving slowly, Obi Wan closed the gap, maneuvering until he could tuck Cody’s head beneath his chin and bury his nose in his dark, curly hair, pulling them together with an arm thrown around his waist.

Cody tensed in his grip and Obi Wan knew he was holding his breath by the way warm bursts of air just barely ghosted across the skin of his neck. Then, moment by infinitesimally slow moment, he relaxed.

Hands came up to tangle in Obi Wan’s tunics and Cody tucked his face deeper into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Obi Wan.” His voice was muffled and Obi Wan suppressed a shiver at the feeling of Cody’s lips skimming his throat as he spoke.

“You’re very welcome.” He reached out and shifted the narglatch pelt so that it covered them more completely, and when he settled his arm around Cody again, he began tracing idle patterns with his fingertips against the fabric of his blacks.

“You’re allowed to ask for help, too, my dear.”

In response, Cody threw his arm around Obi Wan and pressed closer.

“It’s my job to protect _you_ , you know. It’s part of my duty.” Cody’s voice took on a flat, authoritative tone, “‘ _CC-2224 must look out for the wellbeing of one General Obi Wan Kenobi’._ ”

A grin pulled at Obi Wan’s lips and he chuckled into Cody’s hair. “Really? Where is that rule written?”

Cody closed his eyes and pulled his arm from around Obi Wan, tapping a finger to his temple less than an inch from his scar.

“Right here.”

Obi Wan felt Cody’s arm fall back around his waist as he blinked against sudden, absurd tears. He nosed into Cody’s hair again; he smelled like standard-issue GAR soap and blaster oil and caf. His breathing evened out against Obi Wan’s neck and under his fingers the rigid tension of his Commander’s body drained away in sleep.

Obi Wan wanted this every day. He wanted mornings when neither of them had a war to fight and nights where guilt didn’t weigh down their every move. He wanted to swear to Cody that all of his brothers would get safely through the war and that neither of them would have to lose anyone else.

But he couldn’t promise those things. Not really.

It didn’t change how much he wanted to.

He would never truly be able to step away from the Order. He would never stop being a Jedi. Cody deserved someone who was able to give him everything. Cody deserved more than him.

________________________

Obi Wan had a chance to prove himself when the invasion they had been dreading finally came. General Grievous was moving forward with his plans to attack Kamino, and the audacity of his plan made Obi Wan’s stomach roil.

He had made a promise after what happened on the Rishi Moon that he would protect Kamino if the _vode_ there were ever threatened, and Obi Wan had initially held out hope that the Separatists would leave the planet alone after their first failed attempt. He should have known it was wishful thinking.

They were tensely received by Lama Su and Shaak Ti, and though the Prime Minister arrogantly dismissed their concerns of a Separatist invasion, Master Ti did not seem as sure. She gestured to the four of them as Lama Su turned away and Obi Wan followed her with Anakin, Rex, and Cody.

As they made their way down the hall toward the command center, Master Ti stopped in front of one of the training rooms and smiled at them.

“Commander Cody, Captain Rex, it is good to see you again.”

They both snapped to attention, though it was softer than Obi Wan often saw it. Cody flashed a tight grin as he tucked his helmet in against his side. “It is a pleasure to see you, too, General Ti. Though I wish we had better news.”

Her eyes hardened as they swept over the cadets in the training room. “Indeed. General Grievous has plans for Kamino?”

Obi Wan looked at the cadets as well, his resolve growing. “Yes, we intercepted a communication between him and Ventress that pointed to an imminent attack on this base.”

He had noticed the tense set of his Commander’s shoulders since they received news of the invasion, but as he spoke with Master Ti Cody wandered into the training room and knelt down near one of the cadets. He spoke softly to him, correcting the white-knuckle grip he had on his blaster. Shaak Ti trailed off into silence beside him and Obi Wan realized he had been staring. He cleared his throat and turned back to them, Rex looking at him oddly before shifting to watch Cody.

Anakin and Shaak were watching him too as he rejoined their group and he shrugged, unabashed. “It’s never a bad time to learn something.”

Anakin snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time with Obi Wan.”

Rex was grinning too. “No, he’s always been like that.”

“Really?”

Shaak Ti leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling. “Really. Though I think being Obi Wan’s Commander might have made it worse.”

Cody settled next to Obi Wan and rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears were slightly pink.

At that moment an alarm rang throughout the facility and the five of them snapped to attention before sprinting towards the command center. Cody and Rex jammed their helmets back over their heads. One of the techs looked up as they entered the room.

“Sir, the Separatists have begun a bombardment of our blockade.”

“General Skywalker,” Shaak turned to Anakin, “We have a group of starfighters in Bay 17, if you would like to assist with the aerial defense.”

Anakin grinned toothily. “On it, Master Ti.” He turned and ran towards the hangar as the doors slid shut behind him.

Obi Wan watched the attack from the command center, something nagging at the back of his mind, and he followed the feeling until he was face to face with an army of aqua droids and their underwater assault craft.

The droids came in waves out of the ocean, sweeping through the rows of troopers as General Grievous cut down anything in his way. Obi Wan engaged him as soon as he could, wanting to put himself between the cyborg and any future casualties, but something still wasn’t right. The amount of droids was large but not enough to completely overwhelm Tipoca City.

After Grievous fled and the remainder of the droids were destroyed, Anakin came up beside him as he stood on one of the observation decks.

“They sent Ventress after the template DNA.”

Obi Wan’s stomach dropped. “Did she—?”

“No, we got it back. It’s with the Kaminoans now.”

The knot in Obi Wan’s chest loosened and he glanced at Anakin out of the corner of his eye.

“Why do I feel like that’s not exactly better?”

They watched the steely grey ocean for a while before Anakin was called away again.

Obi Wan remembered the first time he walked through Kamino’s sterile-white halls, his skin crawling with unease as he looked at the thousands of men trained to _die_ for a war that the Jedi hoped would never come. Now he felt nausea building in his throat for a different reason.

The white hallways were mottled with carbon scoring from uncountable blaster bolts.

Coppery streaks of blood smeared low on the walls where troopers had taken fire and slumped, bleeding, to the floor.

He allowed his rage to flood through him, cutting at his mind like a blistering sandstorm as he walked deeper into the base through even more destruction. These men were no longer the nameless multitude he had first encountered; now he couldn’t help but see people he knew. Even if he hadn’t met them personally, every fallen trooper he encountered filled his mind with images of Cody, Boil, Waxer, Wooley, Trapper, Longshot, Bara, Kay, Gearshift, Cookie, Crys, and every other trooper he saw daily.

In life, each of these men had shone in the force with energy and vibrance, but now they blurred together in so much stark white armor. This was where they trained _before_ they were sent out to endure their first battles. They had no time to take up brushes and paint themselves with their earned identities.

He stopped outside the door to Master Ti’s quarters with his head hanging as he let the last few hot gusts of anger rush across him. The noise was metallic and resonant when he raised a hand to rap at her door, and she called for him to enter from inside. When the door slid open he stepped across the threshold and headed for the low couch in the middle of the room. Shaak Ti was sitting across from it, a fresh pot of tea on the table between them.

He let his anger drain away before he steadied himself enough to be able to look her in the eye. She was absently tracing the stripes down one lek in an anxious habit Obi Wan remembered from their time as initiates. He hadn’t seen her do it in years.

“Master Ti.”

She looked up with a weak smile. “There is no need for that here, Obi Wan. Not now.”

“You were knighted before I was, I think that entitles you to some deference.”

He rounded the low couch and took a seat, scrubbing a hand over his beard. She leaned forward and poured out the tea into two cups, one of them slid itself across the table toward him until it was within reach.

“And yet, now I am asking comfort of _you_ , Master Kenobi.”

They both paused to sip their tea and the silence stretched on over several minutes. When she spoke again it was carefully controlled.

“Since my assignment here to Kamino I have been isolated from the larger conflict. I am no stranger to death but feeling it here in such an amount… it feels different after spending every day among these men. I trained them for this… to feel their lives snuffed out around me.”

“There is nothing against taking your time to mourn, Shaak.”

He watched her knuckles pale against the teacup as the surface of the liquid rippled under her thunderous gaze.

“There is when the feeling threatens to overwhelm you. We are sending them to die, Obi Wan.”

He thought of another conversation, not so long ago. Standing in the early morning sun on Ryloth and feeling the same hot spike of anger and subsequent rush of shame that he could not control his emotions. Obi Wan looked at Shaak Ti and sighed.

“Do you treat your men like people? Like individuals?” he asked, knowing that she would find the question impertinent. He watched as she looked up sharply to meet his gaze, the beads in her headdress _clicking_ together.

“Of course.”

“We are trained as Jedi to look at every person as a unique entity, and alongside my men I have tried to encourage them to see themselves as such in any way that I can. Because of this, they understand that I fight _with_ them. Cody has reminded me that we too are servants of the Republic, and he knows we do not want this conflict any more than the clones do. He said it helps to be reminded that we are more than what the Republic has forced us to be.”

When he lapsed into silence, most of the anger had drained out of Master Ti until the lines of her body were held in contemplative stillness. Obi Wan sent impressions of comfort into the force and some of the tension went out of her grip.

“They are their own people, even if the Kaminoans treat them like they are producing blasters instead of living beings.”

Obi Wan nodded sympathetically. “Then we treat them like individuals, because they deserve that and so much more.”

He could feel the last of her righteous fury ebbing away as she withdrew into serenity. “Thank you, Obi Wan. I haven’t felt that strongly in quite a while.”

Obi Wan thought again of Ryloth. “But is it not better to acknowledge that you have emotions, rather than pretending you do not?”

“The sage words of a Master Jedi,” she said, raising a hand gracefully over her chest in respect.

Obi Wan hid his too-fond smile behind his cup of tea. “Actually, the sage words of Commander Cody.”

Shaak Ti looked delighted at the sentiment. She set her empty teacup down on the table and then leaned back in her seat, the fluid motion belying predatory intent.

“You work well together, you and your Commander.” Her eyes gleamed in a way that made him want to squirm in his seat, but he was pleased to see that the sadness had faded from them.

“We do,” he admitted, “We have a shared goal.”

“More like a shared curiosity. I still remember his command training, it took him a while to open up, but when he did he was very inquisitive.”

Obi Wan’s smile reappeared. “I can imagine.”

“Commander Gree was more likely to spend his time in the archives, but Commander Cody was different. Just as curious, but far more intense.”

“That sounds very much like Cody.”

He didn’t like the knowing look in her eye and he set his teacup down on the table to avoid being caught in her stare.

“He is very protective of his brothers.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“None of this should be surprising,” he said.

Shaak shook her head. “It is not. I have noticed, however, that he seems particularly protective of you.”

Obi Wan wished he hadn’t put down his teacup so soon. He folded his hands in his lap casually, knowing that behind her teasing was an unspoken warning.

“I’m his assigned General, Shaak, that’s what he does,” he answered mildly.

She held his gaze for a few moments before her expression softened and she chuckled.

“I cannot imagine he gets much sleep if he has to spend all his time keeping you safe.”

Obi Wan glared at her but it lacked true venom. He took an occasional risk or two, yes, but nothing like when he was an initiate. It wasn’t like he was _Anakin_.

There was a soft knock at the door and Shaak Ti called for whoever it was to enter. Commander Cody stepped into the room and tipped his head in acknowledgment.

“General Ti. I was looking for General Kenobi, I’m glad to see he’s in your capable hands.” He wore a small grin but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked tired and stretched thin.

Obi Wan stood and made his way over to his Commander, who attempted to stand at attention for the two Generals.

“Are you alright Cody? You’re not injured, are you?”

He shook his head. “No sir, it’s just been a very long day.” Cody looked up, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Are you alright sir?”

Obi Wan laid a hand on his arm. “I’m okay, Cody.” He turned back to face Master Ti, who appeared equal parts amused and worried.

“Thank you, Master Ti. We should collect our men and head back to the ship.”

She stood and walked them out into the hall, where Obi Wan clasped her hand in farewell and they turned away toward the hangar bay.

As Shaak Ti watched Obi Wan and Commander Cody make their way down the corridor, she focused on the two of them in the force. Obi Wan had always had an impressive knack for shielding, but his ambient emotions would occasionally spill out into the air if he wasn’t paying attention.

They both shone brightly, and they moved in tandem without effort. Like vines reaching for the sun they sought each other instinctually. They orbited each other—Cody’s eyes immediately sought Obi Wan’s when he entered the room and when they got close they leaned into each other’s presence, seemingly without noticing.

She hadn’t said anything, knowing Obi Wan was well aware of potential repercussions, both from the GAR and the Jedi Council.

But that day she watched hundreds of her men, _her boys_ , die all around her. She had already endured the deaths of her two padawans and now she was forced to go through the same thing millions of times over with the clones.

Obi Wan and Cody both deserved whatever happiness they were able to carve out under the thumb of the Republic.

She walked back into her quarters, but instead of returning to the couch she made her way over to where a mat was laid out in front of a large window. She watched as storm clouds rolled closer over the choppy grey ocean. Soon they were right over Tipoca City and rain began pounding unrelentingly on the glass.

She lowered herself gracefully onto the mat, her mind filled with both grief and hope, and sunk into meditation, listening to the thunder rumble overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mom Ti is back babey (why? because I love her)
> 
> [Art of Cody and a small cadet](https://gershwyndl.tumblr.com/post/627085782096789504/mortefran-bow-weaver-mortefran-big-vod) because he is Soft.
> 
> "I fell in love with a Jedi" is absolutely a trope in cheesy romance novels on Coruscant
> 
> Request #1: Let Cody Be Cuddled  
> Request #2: Let The Jedi Mourn And Be People Who Are Fallible


	8. Cody asks for help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since school has started up again I might be a bit slow to update, but trust me I still love and will keep working on this story. I've been looking ahead and (as a very, very rough estimate) I think this fic might end up being around 15 chapters total.
> 
> Not sure about how this chapter came out
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe and I wish I could hug each and every one of you.
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

Cody didn’t know what to expect from their mission to Orto Plutonia. He hadn’t been there the first time, but Rex had told him enough about how callous Chairman Cho had been toward the Talz that he wanted to make sure the 212th made a good impression.

He was grateful that the Chieftain offered to house them for the night: he knew that if the Talz said they wouldn’t survive in the oncoming ice storm, they were most likely right. Cody savored the meal and he appreciated the moment of calm that it afforded his men. Watching them enjoy themselves in the rare moments between campaigns made the guilt weigh a little less on his shoulders.

Soon he had a small Talz child in his lap, but he didn’t mind.

Though technically he hadn’t been an instructor on Kamino, Cody’d spent enough of his time with the cadets that he had grown used to teaching. His protective streak often pushed him to spend his off hours with them, proving to the younglings that the trust and camaraderie between _vode_ was worth so much more than all the history lessons the _kaminiise_ required them to sit through. Cody encouraged them to rely on each other, to build their instincts, and so when the little girl gestured excitedly at his helmet, he happily lifted it closer so she could look at the markings.

“I know most of my men call this color gold, but sometimes I think it’s more orange,” he told her, even if he was fairly sure she couldn’t understand him.

“Jango told us about Mandalorian traditions, like about their _beskar’gam_ and why they painted it with certain colors. Now, if this color is gold then it would represent vengeance. If we _are_ fighting for vengeance, I like to think it would be for all the innocent people in this war—or it could be for how some people treat us clones because the Republic says we aren’t people. But that’s silly, because of course we are.”

The girl reached out a finger and traced the lines on his helmet reverently, and he smiled as he continued. “If this color is orange, though, that means ‘Lust for Life’. I think I like that a little better. We even have a word for it in Mando’a: _shereshoy_. It reminds me to let myself enjoy every day that I can, like being here with you and your people. I’m enjoying that very much.”

He checked to make sure the protocol droid was on the other side of the tent before leaning in conspiratorially. The girl tilted her head like she was listening, though she didn’t take her hand off his helmet.

“I also enjoy all the time I have with my General. He’s a very good General, and a very good man, as well. But sometimes I need to remind him to enjoy himself, too.”

Cody kept talking about anything that came to mind until her many eyelids began to droop. As the last of their bowls were cleared away, one of the older Talz came up to them and gently lifted her off his lap. They laid a large hand on his shoulder in thanks before turning to leave, the girl curled into his fur as she slept.

He stood and stretched, very much looking forward to a full night’s sleep on something other than his cot on the _Negotiator_.

And then came the bed.

_“Cody, if you even think about sleeping on the floor I will knock you out and put you in the bed myself.”_

_Kriff_ , he knew how that sounded, didn’t he? Cody immediately walled off that image in his mind before it had a chance to form and focused on remaining carefully offhand about the situation. He steeled himself as he removed his armor and took a shaky breath. The General wasn’t making a big deal out of it, and he would do the same. In any case, they owed the Chieftain for providing them lodging for the night, even if he did think that they were… together.

Cody curled up beneath the pelts, careful not to touch Kenobi, but soon the cold crept in at the back of his neck and around his toes. He tried to keep as still as possible, but he must have been unsuccessful because he heard his General’s voice, soft and concerned, asking him if he was okay.

Cody tried valiantly to keep himself calm when Kenobi suggested they cuddle for warmth, but the voice in the back of his head told him it would be practical, it would be _logical_ , to share body heat in such an environment. He gave in eventually, turning around and inching as close as he dared, allowing his General to make the next move.

Cody held his breath as he was tucked into the crook of Kenobi’s neck and their legs tangled together, an arm coming up to wrap around his torso.

His mind slipped from _Kenobi_ to _Obi Wan_ while he rationalized that being held in his commanding officer’s arms was as good a reason as any to refer to him by his first name. Anything to keep him from thinking too hard about how good it felt as he tucked his hands into his _jetii_ ’s tunic and pressed himself even closer to the warmth of his body.

He murmured his thanks into Obi Wan’s neck and felt the rumbling response as he tucked the pelts in closer around them.

_“You’re allowed to ask for help, too, my dear.”_

But he couldn’t tell Obi Wan about how, for so long, he had feared to be singled out. Growing up with a constant prickle on the back of his neck as the _kaminiise_ watched their every move, looking for any reason to take them apart to find out what went wrong.

So instead, his tongue heavy with sleep and the warmth of Obi Wan’s body seeping into his bones, he wrapped his arm tightly around the _jetii_ and tangled them further together. With his nose against Obi Wan’s throat he inhaled the scent of tea leaves and the leftover musk clinging to his skin from the fur lining of his parka.

Cody told Obi Wan that it was his mission to protect him, and it was the truth. The instinct to protect Obi Wan Kenobi was one of his personal rules, but Cody had been too scared to gesture to his heart instead of his head. Because that rule wasn’t something he memorized, instead it was one that he felt in the very marrow of his bones.

Cody drifted closer to sleep as Obi Wan’s fingers traced idle patterns against his back. He felt warm and safe for the first time in ages.

In the last few moments before he completely succumbed to the feeling, Rex’s voice came floating out of his memory.

_“Oh Kote, what have you done.”_

__________________________

The feeling of safety lasted only as long as it took for them to get wind of an imminent attack on Kamino. After that point, Cody carried tension in his body so tightly he was surprised he couldn’t feel his vertebrae grinding together when he moved.

Afterward they called it the Battle of Kamino, but what it really was, was needless.

There weren’t enough droids to take the city. The attack was a _distraction_ , one that got hundreds of shinies killed before they ever had a chance to leave the planet. _Cadets_ had been forced to fight, and as much as they were trained from birth for that very chance, Cody hated himself for putting blasters in their hands.

But the worst was 99. Brave, loyal 99 who only ever wanted to prove himself.

After General Ti took over training and immediately put her foot down regarding the Kaminoan’s eagerness to decommission any “defective” clones, Cody had secretly been thrilled when 99 was relegated to the maintenance crew. It wasn’t a proud assignment, especially for a clone, but 99 was always so willing to throw himself into the fight that Cody looked at his position and thought that he would be _safe_.

But the hallways they had once called home were now littered with bodies.

It didn’t feel very safe anymore.

Cody was exhausted. He felt drained in a way he hadn’t been since Christophsis. This time, though, his bone-deep anger was aimed at the entire galaxy instead of a single person.

 _They were meant to be safe_ , he told the universe, or perhaps just the force. _ Ni ru’urman’gedeti val cuyir morut'yc. Anay ca. Meh mhi ne’lise cabuo kaysh tion’bor vaabir mhi cabuo mhi? _

But there were still _vode_ that would be sent out into battle soon, and as far as he knew, the Kaminoans were still dismissing them before they finished 10 years of training. 99 hadn’t even received full training because the _kaminiise_ had not wanted to alter their modules to accommodate the “defective” clones General Ti had insisted on keeping.

They needed to allow everyone to fight who wanted to if they wanted to end the war. More men equaled more feet on the ground, sure, but Cody had observed that the more time they spent around the _jetiise,_ the more they felt comfortable thinking for themselves.

Cody had told his General—because of their peacekeeping nature, they encouraged the _vode_ to throw off the rigidity the Kaminoans had tried to drill into them. He had seen his own men light up under Obi Wan’s kind smile and he wanted nothing more than for his brothers on Kamino to have that same kind of influence.

General Ti was the best thing that could have happened to them and Cody knew that she was trying her best, but the _kaminiise_ still demanded order and anonymity. There needed to be something more he could do.

He walked the halls until one of the cadets told him they’d seen General Kenobi heading for the trainer’s quarters, so Cody went first to General Ti’s door. He saw Kenobi sitting on one of the low couches and tried to give him a pleased smile, but even that felt strained and soon he had a concerned General by his side.

Cody used Obi Wan’s hand on his arm as a grounding point. There were layers of fabric separating them, but the pressure reminded him that they were both still standing. And that meant they had a chance of protecting everyone they had left.

He caught General Ti’s worried look out of the corner of his eye as she glanced between him and Obi Wan, but soon they turned toward the door and walked away down the corridor.

They made their way back to the _Negotiator_ and Cody was only vaguely aware of the gentle pressure on the small of his back that Obi Wan was using to guide him. The hallways were quiet, most of the men had retreated to the barracks for the night to mourn their fallen _vode_ and tend to their wounds. He noticed only when they stopped in front of a door that Obi Wan had led them to his quarters, not Cody’s.

He made a noise of protest but his General only softly applied more pressure to his back until he stepped inside.

“Sit down, Cody.”

He fell heavily into the chair by the desk. Obi Wan removed his armor and set the pieces off to the side, then he leaned behind Cody and flicked on his little electric kettle.

In Obi Wan’s desk chair, Cody realized just how bone-tired he really was. He set his helmet on the floor near the leg of the chair before running a hand over his face. Obi Wan shuffled around the small room, producing a set of cups from somewhere as he portioned out two mugs of tea. He slid one across the desk and Cody recognized the smell as the decaffeinated kind Cookie stocked for him.

He lifted the mug gently and concentrated on the warmth of it in his hands. It was easier to do than to focus on the battle, or the dead, or his own aches and pains. Obi Wan didn’t say anything, instead he only leaned against the bed while they sipped their tea in silence.

Cody spoke first. “Thank you, sir.”

Obi Wan looked at him quietly before reaching out a hand and laying it on Cody’s shoulder.

“Cody, the last thing you need is constant questions making you think about everything that you _could’ve_ done. I know you know it does more harm than good, and I’m as guilty as anyone for doing exactly the same. We move forward but we do not forget. We mourn and we grieve but we _remember_. You protected your brothers as best as you possibly could.

“Even you cannot stop the entire Separatist army on your own, my dear.”

He leaned forward and nudged Cody’s forehead with his own, and though he knew that Obi Wan was not ignorant of what a _ mirshmure'cya _ meant, in that moment it was nothing more than comfort and understanding. Cody closed his eyes and breathed slowly; he could feel Obi Wan lingering a few inches away.

When he opened them again, he stared into the bottom of his now-empty mug. The _jetii_ pulled away slightly, squeezing the hand still on Cody’s shoulder.

_ "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum." _

Cody echoed the words quietly. He knew that both his and Kenobi’s list of names were far longer than they ever should have been. The fingers holding his mug loosened and he set it down on the desk before he could drop it. His eyelids drooped and his feet felt as though they were too heavy to lift.

Obi Wan set down his own tea and kneeled next to him. He reached out a finger and tapped on the fastening of Cody’s chestplate.

“This can’t be comfortable to sleep in. May I?”

Cody made a noise. “It’s late, sir. I can go back to my quarters.”

Kenobi cracked a small smile. “And have you fall asleep on the way? It’s okay, Cody, you need to rest. You said it was your job to look after me, but let me look after you.”

Warmth bubbled in Cody’s chest. He knew that on a night like this it would be easier to get a few good hours of sleep if there was a familiar presence nearby. Glancing down at his armor, he thought about the conversation he’d had with Helix the last time the General had been injured. His brothers were family, but if there was a person on this ship he was closest to, it was Obi Wan.

Cody swallowed thickly but nodded. He was too tired to argue.

Obi Wan’s fingers worked at the fastenings of his chestplate and pauldrons while Cody slipped off his boots and greaves. Together they piled his armor beside the desk and Cody didn’t even protest as he was pulled by the hand towards the bed, collapsing onto it when he got close.

Obi Wan sat down in the chair he had just vacated.

“I have to finish writing up my report, but you should sleep.”

Cody nodded, attempting valiantly not to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“Wake me when you’re done.”

He fell asleep to the gentle taps of Obi Wan’s fingers on his datapad.

A few hours later he woke up still sprawled in his General’s bed. A warm blanket had been thrown over him and a small part of his muddled brain realized that it was one of Obi Wan’s robes.

The light was still on over the desk, but Obi Wan wasn’t working. He had fallen asleep in the chair with his shoulder and head on the edge of the bed.

 _That didn’t look comfortable_ , Cody thought sluggishly, reaching out a hand to wake him. Obi Wan looked up, squinting in the low light, his hair adorably ruffled. He yawned and scrubbed at his beard.

“Come here,” Cody said as he shuffled closer to the wall to create more room on the narrow bed. “It’s far more comfortable than the chair.”

The General’s movements were lethargic but he rubbed his eyes and fell onto the bed without question. He rolled onto his side so they would both fit and Cody threw the robe over them both, pulling Obi Wan close to make sure he wouldn’t roll off.

Cody tucked his nose into his General’s red-gold hair. They both smelled like the same tea, and he dropped off to sleep easily with the feel of Obi Wan’s heartbeat beneath his fingers, even with the light still on.

It was later than usual when Cody finally opened his eyes. He was warm and comfortable, one arm still wrapped tightly around Obi Wan and their legs tangled together. It was the best sleep he’d gotten since Orto Plutonia and he refused to think too closely at why.

He very carefully withdrew his arm and scrambled over the footboard of the bed to avoid waking Obi Wan. He turned off the light over the desk and started up the kettle. Digging around in the little crate on the desk, Cody found one of the tins of teas he had bought and carefully made it according to the instructions on the package. He knew Obi Wan would be up soon, but he tucked the robe in tighter around him anyway.

He had a brief urge to drop a kiss onto his General’s forehead, but he restrained himself, twisting to retrieve his helmet from the edge of the desk. Obi Wan had stacked all of Cody’s armor neatly next to his own and something hot flashed through him as he considered how _right_ it looked.

He reattached the various bits of plastoid to his blacks, ducking out the door and into the corridor outside in order to cut off any lingering temptation to stay. Thankfully the hall was empty and he made his way up to one of the briefing rooms off of the bridge—there was idea in the back of his mind that had been building since the night before.

Once inside the briefing room, he punched in the comm number for Kamino, and it only took a few moments for one of the techs from the command center to appear above the holoprojector.

“Marshall Commander Cody, sir,” he said, snapping to attention. Cody gave him a sharp salute in acknowledgement.

“Morning, trooper. Can you patch me through to General Ti, please,” he lowered his voice, “And, if at all possible, can you make sure she is alone when she answers?”

The tech nodded surreptitiously, and his image faded out. Cody waited a minute or two before the spectral form of General Ti materialized in front of him and he recognized her surroundings as the sitting room in her quarters. There was a playful glint in her eyes.

“Commander Cody, what can I do for you?”

He executed a shallow bow. “General Ti. I wanted to get your opinion on an idea concerning the training on Kamino.”

“I see.” Her expression turned more serious.

“I know that you have stood against the decommissioning of many of my brothers, and for that you have my deepest gratitude, but I wonder if those clones the Kaminoans consider “defective” could be given the same battlefield training if they wanted it.”

He maintained eye contact even as his hands twisted behind his back in a habit he had picked up from Obi Wan.

“You are thinking about 99, are you not?” There was no judgement in her quiet, steady voice.

Cody glanced to the side, his throat tightening, but he nodded. “99 was as brave as any brother, and he only ever wanted to fight for them. If we implemented an adaptive training program, we could make sure that the clones who would not have previously been considered for active duty can fight if they want to.”

When he looked back up, he saw that her gaze had turned thoughtful. “It would mean that those clones would be sent out to the front lines as well.”

Cody could hear the thread of concern in her voice and knew that she felt the same as he had done, that if they were on Kamino—any of them—it meant they might be safe. But he couldn’t rely on that anymore.

“General Ti, I know that many of my brothers take their oath to the Republic to the grave, but so did so many cadets yesterday before they even saw battle. I need to make sure that everyone can defend themselves, because Kamino is not going to be safe forever. We learned that yesterday.”

Her dark eyes hardened like durasteel and he thought for a moment he may have gone too far, but after a moment she straightened as though making a decision.

“I will see what I can do, Commander Cody.”

Cody let out the breath he hadn’t realized was stuck in his throat.

“Thank you, General Ti.”

She reached for the comm and stopped with her hand hovering over the controls. _ "Ni ven’cabuo kaysh, ani’la." _

Her pronunciation was hesitant but her tone was firm, and when Cody looked into her eyes he saw the same righteous fury he sometimes glimpsed in Obi Wan. After General Ti had taken over training it had been she who encouraged unity and ingenuity among the _vode_ as if they were her own. He believed her, totally.

 _"Vor entye,"_ he said softly before shutting down the holoprojector. The blue light of her form blinked out and he was left in darkness.

__________________________

When they reached Coruscant they were given a few days to rest, but before they could enjoy it the Senate was locked down by a group of bounty hunters who bartered their hostages for the release of Ziro the Hutt. Fearing for the lives of the senators, the Chancellor eventually authorized the prisoner’s release and Obi Wan was tasked with the job of hunting Ziro down and returning him to Coruscant.

Helping him with his mission would be General Vos, whom Cody had met once before under _interesting_ circumstances. However, now that he and Vos were at the Jedi Temple in broad daylight and not a dimly lit Coruscant bar, Cody felt a bit better about his sanity.

Immediately General Vos began commenting on Obi Wan’s haggard appearance, and though Cody secretly agreed he felt a prickly need to defend his General. Cody wanted more than anything to go with them, but it was to be a stealth mission, and a trooper escort would draw too much attention.

After a week Cody stood on the landing platform again watching their shuttle dock as two exhausted _jetiise_ made their way down the ramp. At least Vos hadn’t jumped out of a moving ship this time.

Obi Wan looked more fatigued than when he left, and there were several spots on his tunics that looked singed or splashed with dark patches of mud. Cody suppressed the immediate urge to reach out to him. General Vos looked in slightly better spirits, though, and he walked ahead as Cody fell into step beside Obi Wan.

“Are you alright, sir?”

He nodded as they moved into the Temple. “Yes, Cody. I’ll be fine, but I have to give my report to the council before I can do anything else.” A regretful frown twisted his lips. “They will not be pleased that we failed to capture either one of our targets.”

“Come on, Kenobi,” Vos had turned around and was eyeing them while he walked backward. He spread his arms wide, “They might be forgiving! There’s a first time for everything.”

They had reached the lift that led up to the council room, and Cody stepped off to the side as the _jetiise_ climbed inside. Obi Wan shot him a look of reassurance. Vos only winked.

Cody made his way to the refectory and convinced the cook to pack him a box with a little of everything in it. He thought there may have been a bit of a smile on the cook’s face when he mentioned General Kenobi, but Cody took the box gratefully, trying to remember the way back to Obi Wan’s quarters. He eventually found the right corridor after wandering down three of the wrong ones, but he stopped in front of the correct door and knocked tentatively, hoping that he would be back from his meeting.

The door slid open and Obi Wan called his name from inside. He was sitting at his little table, nursing a cup of tea, though oddly he was holding it in his left hand instead of his right. Cody scanned his General for any injuries, kicking himself for not doing it as soon as he stepped off the shuttle. It wasn’t obvious, but Obi Wan held his right hand tucked in against his side and seemed to be attempting to keep it still. Cody removed his helmet, trying to keep his expression free of the worry that churned in his gut.

“Have you had anything to eat since you left Teth?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“I have not. Did you come by just to push food on me?”

There was a small grin on Obi Wan’s face and he put his cup of tea down, poking at the box curiously after Cody set it on the table.

“Perhaps. Though I could have just left you with General Vos instead.” He saw Obi Wan shudder and his gaze flick to the door.

“Quinlan Vos is best taken in small doses.”

Cody laughed and he made his way into the kitchen, fishing two forks out of a drawer and placing them near Obi Wan on the table before ducking into the refresher to look for something he knew to be nearby.

He found the medkit tucked into a cabinet under the sink and Obi Wan raised an eyebrow when it was brought out into the living room.

“So that’s why you dropped by, and I was so excited for the food.”

Cody pushed the refectory box to the far side of the table and set the medkit down, pulling up a chair so he was only a foot or so away from Obi Wan.

“The food will still be here after you let me take a look at whatever you did to your arm. Unless you would like me to take you to see the medics instead?”

Obi Wan stared at him hard, and something in his eyes seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of the offer.

Cody tried more emphatically. “Please, Obi Wan.”

His General’s expression eased and he sighed dramatically. He lifted his right arm, moving carefully, and laid it on the table between them.

“Okay,” he conceded, his voice soft.

Cody removed Obi Wan’s armor and set it off to the side, then the _jetii_ slipped his tabards over his head and shifted the layers of fabric so he could slide them off on one side. He was left in his sleeveless tunic as he stretched the arm out again so Cody could survey the damage.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth when he saw the fractal patterns of electrical burns, starting at his General’s wrist and continuing up his forearm. This wasn’t a simple stun bolt, someone had held onto him with the intent to _hurt_.

Obi Wan’s voice broke through the dull roar of his anger. “Cody, It’s alright. I’ll heal.”

Cody gritted his teeth as he removed his gloves so that he could apply the bacta without getting them sticky. He dug around in the medkit for a roll of gauze.

“Why did the Senate think it was a good idea to send you after an escaped prisoner, don’t they have a security force for that?”

Obi Wan sighed. “You would think so, yes.”

Lifting his General’s arm, Cody applied the bacta as gently as he could, taking extra care around his wrist were the burns appeared to be the deepest. Looking closely, he could see branching patterns crawling up the back of his hand and a few tiny lines inching out toward the tips of his fingers.

Cody took Obi Wan’s hand in his own and smoothed a layer of bacta over his knuckles, feeling the callouses and the heat of his General’s skin. He kept his eyes down as he took the roll of gauze and wrapped it slowly around Obi Wan’s arm, smoothing it down with gentle strokes as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He finally looked up after securing the wrap and he found that Obi Wan’s eyes were fixed on Cody’s hands. The tips of his ears were pink.

“Is that good? Not too tight?”

Obi Wan stretched his fingers and they brushed lightly against Cody’s. “Not at all. Have you been practicing or are you just naturally gifted?”

The tension that had settled over them lifted and Obi Wan smiled at Cody’s quiet chuckle.

“I haven’t taken a field medicine course since command training, but I think I’ve watched Helix patch you up enough times that I’m relatively well prepared.”

He returned the pot of bacta to the medkit and tucked it back under the sink in the refresher. When he sat back down at the table Obi Wan was slipping his outer tunic back over his arm; beneath the sleeve Cody could see the bandages poking out around his fingers. He was still moving the arm gingerly, but it was not as stiff as he had been before.

Cody pulled the box of food back toward them and Obi Wan handed him a fork. They ate in a comfortable silence.

__________________________

One morning a few days later Cody walked into the mess hall to see that Obi Wan was not wearing his usual armor, but instead the simple tunics that he mostly associated with planetside leave on Coruscant. But this wasn’t the Temple, and they were currently jumping between warzones.

“Sir, are you not going to wear your armor today?”

Obi Wan frowned for a moment into his tea and Cody could tell something was troubling him—he wouldn’t have left his armor behind without reason. Obi Wan drummed the corner of his thumb on the rim of his cup as he thought.

“I told you before that I was unprepared to be a General, and I’ve been thinking about how we have drifted away from the peacekeepers we used to be. I’ve realized that my armor makes me feel less like a Jedi.”

He set the tea down and rolled the fabric of his sleeve between his fingers.

“I know we still make an effort to solve as much as we can with our words before anything escalates to violence, but it happens so often anyway that I can’t help but wonder if we are really making a difference.”

Cody felt the sudden need to reassure him. “You are, sir.”

It was true, he thought, there’s no one he would rather serve under, because Obi Wan always made his decisions with such things in mind. He always thought of his men first, intent on keeping them safe.

Obi Wan smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They are sending us after escaped prisoners when we could be running relief missions to systems that need aid. Thank you, Cody, but… the more I act like a General, the less I feel like _me._ ”

Cody thought about it. As much as he wanted his General to wear the armor for his own protection, he and his brothers knew the value of using their appearance to express their identity—if Obi Wan really thought that his armor was changing the way he presented himself, then Cody was not going to force him to put it back on.

However, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do something special. Obi Wan had never painted his original armor, and Cody was unsure if it was simply because he didn’t want to, or, more likely, that he thought he may have been intruding on the traditions of the _vode_.

A few days later, Cody found himself holding a blank pair of bracers and staring at them intently.

Perhaps if his General had something more personalized, he would feel more comfortable. Cody wasn’t going to give Obi Wan an entire suit of armor—even if he could convince the General to wear it, the idea was tantamount to proposing marriage on the spot. Even giving him the bracers would be invoking certain courting traditions, but if Cody was certain of anything, it was that Obi Wan was important to him. He would endure the teasing and the knowing glances of his men if it meant keeping his General safe and happy.

He debated painting them with the symbol of the Jedi Order, but that had been on the set Obi Wan discarded, and Cody thought that the symbol of a peacekeeping people on armor designed for war may have been part of the initial problem.

Eventually he decided to paint one of them with the symbol of the Open Circle Fleet in as close a reference to his _aliit_ as Cody dared to make. Cody fought for his family, and he knew Obi Wan did too, in his own _jetii_ way. And Obi Wan’s family (as far as Cody could tell) was Skywalker and Commander Tano. The symbol of their combined forces seemed appropriate.

There was an odd staticky feeling in his chest the whole day leading up to when he gave Obi Wan the bracers. He tucked the box under his arm as he stood nervously outside his General’s door, but after a few tense minutes he raised his hand to knock. He had a feeling Obi Wan would be able to sense it if Cody spent the entire night standing outside his room.

“Come in Cody.” His General’s voice floated through the door and it slid open. Cody stepped in and stood loosely at attention.

“Are you ever going to tell me how you always know it’s me?”

Obi Wan smiled. “I do remember a certain conversation about force signatures.”

“Well, yes, but there are hundreds of us in the 212th alone, not to mention in the rest of the 7th Sky Corps. You can’t possibly remember every single one of us.”

Obi Wan’s expression softened as his eyes flitted over Cody, landing on his scar, the markings on his armor, and a few of the deeper scratches marring the plastoid that he had been unable to repair.

He shrugged lightly. “ _Jetii kebise._ ”

Cody had not been paying attention the last time he’d been in his General’s quarters, too focused on the fact that they were both still breathing at the end of the day and too tired to see straight, but now he noticed that there was a low shelf tucked into the far corner. There were a couple of holobooks on it, but what caught Cody’s attention was the tank containing a few gallons of dark water and several jewel-toned aquatic plants.

Obi Wan followed his gaze and his eyes lit up. “Do you like them? We don’t get much sunlight on the ship so I couldn’t keep most terrestrial plants, but these were a gift from an old friend.”

Cody watched the tendrils of a deep purple kelp drift lazily in an unseen current and he couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very peaceful.”

Obi Wan stepped up next to him. “It is, isn’t it.”

He glanced at Cody and his lips were twisted in concern beneath his beard.

“Is everything alright?”

Cody straightened and fidgeted with the corner of the box.

“Actually, I have something for you. And you are absolutely free to refuse them if that’s what you want.” He handed over the box and Obi Wan’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I don’t what would possibly make me want to refuse a gift.”

Cody kept his worries to himself as his General set the box on the desk and lifted the lid on its hinges. The only noise in the room became the near-silent hum of the tank’s filter as Obi Wan stared at the bracers without moving. Cody found himself rushing to explain.

“You said that your old armor didn’t feel like you, and I’m sorry if I overstepped but I thought this would be a little better. And it’s not as many pieces as there were before.” He trailed off into silence wondering if he had crossed a line, showed a little too much familiarity with his Commanding Officer, but then he heard Obi Wan speak.

“Thank you, Cody _._ ”

Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders and he swallowed. “Are they okay, sir?”

Obi Wan seemed to sense his lingering unease and he looked up, laying a hand on Cody’s arm. “They are. _Vor entye._ ”

The earnestness in his General’s eyes sparked the warmth in his chest into something almost painful, and he knew he needed to step away. He raised his own hand to Obi Wan’s shoulder and skated his fingers of the fabric of his tunic. Cody’s smile was tight but fond as he nodded and turned away.

He caught a glimpse of Obi Wan tracing one of the painted arcs with his finger before the door slid shut behind him.

__________________________

Soon the 212th were assigned a mission to Mimban to assist the local Liberation Army with a recurring droid problem. Cody found himself understanding Bly’s complaints about Felucia a little better, because Mimban was nothing but endless fields of mud and muck. He doubted his blacks would ever be rid of the thick grey sludge.

But that wasn’t his biggest concern. Cody sat with his back to a fallen tree as his head swam with what he knew was most likely a concussion and his leg ached with the pain of at least one broken bone. Obi Wan’s lightsaber was clipped to his belt, but the General was about ten feet away behind his own tree and the blaster bolts were flying too thick through the air to crawl over and give it to him. He watched Obi Wan as best he could.

His face was streaked with mud and his tunics were dripping black silt onto the ground. Cody could barely see the insignia on his bracer underneath the layer of muck, but Obi Wan’s teeth were bared and his hands were twitching to fight back. Cody pitied the droids that were on the receiving end of that furious look.

Obi Wan eyed an abandoned rifle on the ground nearby and Cody remembered a conversation they’d had at the very beginning of the war—General Kenobi had insisted that he knew how to use a blaster, but that he simply preferred his own _ jetii’kad _. Now, pinned down in the dirt, Cody saw him lift the rifle tentatively, looking at it with great distain, until a particularly strong blast shook the ground and his eyes turned a steely grey. Obi Wan expertly shouldered the rifle and began picking off droids with practiced ease.

It was the most beautiful thing Cody had ever seen.

One of their troopers stumbled by and a blaster bolt tore into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Obi Wan ducked out from behind the tree and hauled the trooper to safety, angling his body so that he could shoot defensively.

His General was standing alone, covered in mud, and missing his lightsaber. Despite everything, he still placed himself between his men and whatever threatened them, and Cody loved him for it.

Oh.

Cody was in love with his General.

It wasn’t as much of a shock as he had expected, but maybe that was just the concussion.

It felt like a natural conclusion to what he had been feeling for over a year. Of course he was in love with Obi Wan, how could he not be? He was very easy to love.

Obi Wan, whom Cody had wanted to trust from the moment they met, but held back out of fear.

Obi Wan, who was as protective of their men as Cody himself.

Obi Wan, who joked and laughed but whose smiles always seemed to be tinged with sadness.

He would have to keep his feelings buried deep, but Cody could do that. It was exactly what he had been doing all along; before now he had not understood just how deep those feelings went, this was simply giving them a name. This was putting a finger to the bubble of warmth that always lit in his chest when his General was around and acknowledging it with a soft _oh, it’s you._

The noises of incoming GAR transport shuttles cut through the fog of his thoughts and Cody’s shoulders sagged in relief. He saw Helix dart in and lift the trooper next to Obi Wan onto a stretcher, working on the wound as they carried him away. A new group of troopers stormed past Cody and somewhere in the distance he could hear the metallic sounds of droids being torn apart.

Cody shifted his weight to his uninjured leg and propped himself up on an elbow so he could claw his way upright against the tree, but a hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him.

“Please don’t put any weight on that leg, Commander.”

Cody’s attention was glued to the warm press of Obi Wan’s glove and he smiled beneath his helmet, taking a quick shuddering breath and shoving all of his feelings to the side where he could think about them later.

“Sorry sir but I have to get to the evac shuttle somehow, and I’m not taking the stretchers from the _vode_ who need them more. I can make it.”

His General huffed a laugh. “In that case, may I help?”

Cody nodded and Obi Wan stepped closer, leaning down so that Cody could pull himself up by his shoulder. He took a hesitant step and wasn’t able to quite suppress a wince as his weight shifted. Obi Wan looked at the broken leg and his lips pursed beneath his beard.

In a single, fluid motion his left arm tightened around Cody’s middle and the right carefully slid behind his knees to lift him into the air.

Cody was pressed into his General’s chest and he was incredibly grateful for his helmet when his face flushed beneath it. Obi Wan looked down at him and the sun behind his head turned his hair into an auburn halo. Cody thought the concussion might be getting to him.

“You alright?”

His General’s voice was soft and he could hear the implicit question in it. Cody nodded jerkily but he wound his arm around Obi Wan’s shoulders, hesitantly letting a hand rest at the back of his neck. He focused on the pain in his leg as they walked so he wouldn’t think about how, without his helmet, he would be able to press his face into his General’s neck, or how, without his gloves, he would be able to feel the warmth of his General’s skin just beneath his fingertips.

He resolutely did not look at his men as they neared the shuttle and he ignored the way Helix’s eyebrows shot into his hairline when he saw them.

Under the weight of his brothers’ smug grins, the heat in Cody’s face threatened melt his _ buy’ce _ right off his head.

__________________________

They were separated again when the council sent Obi Wan and Skywalker to investigate attacks by a rogue zabrak. After they returned from that mission, they were barely on Coruscant long enough for Cody to check in when they were sent out again to look into a distress signal coming from Wild Space. They were meant to meet up with the 501st and Cody commed Rex, knowing that he would be teased, but asking him to keep an eye on his general anyway.

Even though there was a hint of a grin, Rex accepted the request without a word. After all, Skywalker and Tano were there, too, and he couldn’t stand for them to get hurt any more than Cody would for Obi Wan.

When they all came back safe but empty-handed Cody was relieved, but there was something off about the three _jetiise_ , though Obi Wan seemed distinctly more thoughtful than Skywalker or Tano. Cody went to his General’s quarters afterward and he realized how much he had missed him.

Sitting around Obi Wan’s little table and talking about everything and nothing seemed to stitch together something inside of him that he didn’t realize had torn.

Now that Cody understood better the depth of his feelings, it was harder for him to leave Obi Wan’s side. He would do it if he was ordered to, but each time it felt like the warmth in his chest was being replaced with an icy void. It wasn’t that he was worried about protecting him—Cody had seen Obi Wan fight his way out of any number of impossible situations with nothing more than a smile and a wink—but he wanted to be beside him, celebrating the victories and soothing the defeats.

He could be help, he could be comfort, he could be a friendly ear. Anything more would be risking both of their positions no matter how badly he wanted to put his arms around his General and never let go. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning, all of their loved ones safe and happy, watching the sunrise over a peaceful galaxy.

And sometimes, he wanted more.

Sometimes his mind was full of nothing but his General’s laugh and the urge to catch his lips so that the happiness became trapped between them. He wanted to kiss away the scars and the frowns until nothing remained but the two of them. Just Obi Wan. Just Cody.

But wanting more was the problem.

Wanting more put them both at risk, and Cody could never stand to be the one who put Obi Wan in danger.

So, he remained at his General’s side and didn’t push when he could tell something was worrying him. Cody knew if it was really upsetting Obi Wan, he would talk through it, just like they had so many battle plans and uncertainties and guilt-driven insomnia nights.

 _I can be there_ , he thought. _I don’t need more_.

When they received word that General Piell had been captured by Separatists and was being held in one of their prisons, Cody steeled himself for another dangerous _jetii_ mission. But when he was told where the rescue mission would take them, cold dread dripped down his spine.

The Citadel course was the final test cadets took on Kamino. For many it was their last chance to prove they were worthy of serving on the front lines, and this mission felt to Cody like it was the same kind of test. Gaining the Nexus Hyperspace Route could be their chance to turn the tide of the war.

Undergoing carbon freezing in order to sneak past the lifeform scanners seemed like an absurd idea, but Cody trusted his General, and Obi Wan trusted Skywalker. He had some regrets when he was immediately thrown off balance after being thawed. It took a few minutes for his ears to stop ringing and his eyesight to clear enough to put his helmet back on. His HUD stopped spinning in front of him and he counted that as a victory.

Obi Wan came over to check on them, and behind him Cody could see General Skywalker arguing with Commander Tano. Rex seemed to have noticed as well.

“She didn’t,” he said, and his voice was almost pleading.

“She did,” replied Echo, grinning broadly. He turned to his brother, “Hey Fives, you owe me ten credits.”

Fives swung around and glared at the Commander, “What is she doing?”

 _ "Vod’ika gana jaro. _ Putting herself in a situation where she’s going to get hurt.” Rex’s teeth were gritted. “On one of the only missions where she had an actual order to stay away.”

Obi Wan seemed amused that his former padawan had to deal with a student just as disobedient as he had been, but Cody could read the hesitation in his fingers and the slight twist of his lips. Obi Wan agreed with Rex, and so did Cody.

Their entry into the facility was treacherous; they climbed around electro-mines on the sheer cliff face, and he felt Rex’s shudder of grief when Charger lost his grip and fell. Not a few minutes later, Cody watched Longshot crumple to the ground after facing an electrified web of energy and it was Obi Wan’s voice that brought him back to the mission. His knuckles were aching as he clenched his fingers around his blaster.

They needed to do what they came here for. Longshot deserved that. Charger deserved that.

Once General Piell was reunited with his Captain, the plan had to be changed to accommodate the extra men and the lockdown of the facility. Cody didn’t often have strong opinions about other officers, but there was something he didn’t like about Captain Tarkin. The man was oily in a way Cody generally associated with politicians, and it didn’t sit right with him as Tarkin questioned their every move.

Thankfully, General Piell agreed with Obi Wan and the group was split up to protect the information. As they made their way through the ventilation shafts, Kay was caught in the closing security doors and Cody’s hands clutched at his arm as it went limp, blood staining the durasteel as his spine was severed.

Cody wanted to mourn, he wanted to grieve, but he followed his general’s brilliant lightsaber through the dark. His anger built behind his ribs like a banked flame.

That flame grew as they were ambushed and taken to the Separatist Commander in charge of the Citadel. Only Obi Wan’s calm, measured voice tempered his desire to fight back, even with his hands bound. Sobek pulled a blaster on Crys when General Piell refused to cooperate, and the shot cut through the air as his body dropped with the sound of clattering plastoid.

Cody’s teeth ground together and he could see the anger in General Piell’s eyes as they raked over Commander Sobek. Obi Wan flinched beside him.

They were sent off to be tortured, which Cody found a more bearable idea than watching his men die while he stood by in chains, but R2 and his group of modified B-1s came to their rescue. As they made their escape, plan B ended in a firefight on the airfield, and Cody breathed a little easier when he saw the 501st blue armor heading their way.

Everyone scrambled for cover as droids sped into the area, intent on keeping them pinned so they couldn’t get away. Cody picked off one of the droids heading towards him when a massive explosion tore through the air. He and Loop ducked behind a supply crate and sheltered General Piell’s men as charred debris rained down.

A smoking helmet lay on the ground near the remains of their shuttle and Cody recognized Echo’s paint just as Fives screamed his brother’s name.

Cody laid down defensive fire as Obi Wan called a retreat and the rest of the men hurried to follow. They holed up in one of the tunnels and he stood guard while the _jetiise_ formulated a plan. Both he and Rex were watching Fives out of the corner of their eye, and he seemed to be moving on pure instinct—watching for droids and monitoring the Citadel’s searchlights—but between actions he went stiff and his gaze drifted in a way that told them his eyes were having trouble focusing.

Soon they were overrun by droids again, and in their escape Cody and Obi Wan became the last members of the 212th still standing, as Loop and one of Piell’s men lay crumpled at the bottom of a cliff. He kept his mind on the plan, breathing heavily against the part of him that wanted nothing more than to go back to the Citadel and wring Commander Sobek’s neck.

They were forced to split up again, and Cody didn’t want to leave Obi Wan and Skywalker to deal with whatever was tracking them, but he only tapped his fingers against Obi Wan’s bracer as he passed. He knew his General could most likely sense his poorly concealed anger and concern, but his feelings didn’t matter. Obi Wan would see that the Nexus Route information made it back to the Republic at any cost. The fact that Cody wanted to keep him safe even more was not part of the plan.

Obi Wan looked over and gave him a strained smile. _It’s alright,_ it said. _We’ll get out of this._

And then General Piell was killed by one of the creatures and Commander Tano was left to carry his half of the information. Cody could feel Rex’s concern spike and his gaze kept flitting between her and Fives.

Eventually they made it to the extraction point and they were picked up by General Koon and the 104th. The shuttle ride back to the _Courageous_ rattled everyone’s nerves as they punched their way through the Separatist blockade.

Immediately after landing on the flagship, the medic ran up to them and got General Piell’s men onto stretchers headed for the medbay. Another ran over to check on the rest of them. Other than a few bruises they were alright, but General Skywalker was pulled aside to tend to a couple of minor burns. Commander Tano was also led away, but this time by General Koon, to whom she was speaking quietly.

Wolffe made his way over, eyeing the way they remained clustered together. Obi Wan lingered near Cody’s shoulder, but when he saw Wolffe approaching he tapped subtly on his arm.

Cody hesitated but gestured to his General that he should follow General Koon and Tano. Obi Wan didn’t look convinced but he did so, leaving Cody alone with his brothers.

Wolffe removed his helmet and they followed suit. He flinched when he saw Fives’s glassy stare and he shot a look at Rex, who only shook his head. He shepherded them into the mess hall in silence and got them each a tray of food. Cody would normally protest the gesture, but he was drained and furious and didn’t have the strength to do so.

The anger in his chest had burned down somewhat, but it still smoldered steadily.

He picked at the food as Wolffe sat next to him. His voice was quiet and steady. “How many?”

“Four of mine, two of Rex’s. But…” Cody pushed the protein substitute around on his tray. He found himself absently missing Cookie’s recipes. “Fives lost his _ ara’vod." _

Cody could hear Wolffe’s intake of breath. He caught Rex’s eye and his expression was shuttered with pain. Fives didn’t touch the food. They all knew that night was going to be rough.

After the mess hall Wolffe led them to one of the spare officer’s rooms they kept for when other generals visited. He shoved them inside and set up two more cots next to the bed, gesturing for the three of them to take turns in the ‘fresher while he fished spare blankets and sleepclothes out of a cabinet.

After getting changed, Fives curled up on the bed so tightly that it looked painful. His fists were clenched and his knees locked together in front of his chest. Rex dragged his cot over until he was just close enough that Fives could reach out if he needed to, and Wolffe seated himself in a chair between their cots and Cody’s.

Cody ran a hand over his face and through his still-damp hair. He breathed as deeply as he could, running through his list of the dead and skirting the deep well of sadness that formed a gaping void in his mind.

There was a soft knock at the door and Wolffe hesitantly stood to answer it. When it slid aside they could see Obi Wan in the corridor holding a tray, and though Wolffe appeared surprised he stood aside side to let the General in.

Cody recognized the tea on the tray and took a cup easily when Obi Wan offered it. He attempted to give one to Wolffe, too, but only received a wary stare.

“It’ll give you something to do with your hands,” he prompted quietly, and Wolffe reached out with fingers that only trembled slightly, cradling the cup between his palms.

“I know you’re worried about your commander, General Kenobi, but he’s in good hands.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Obi Wan responded, skirting around Wolffe’s chair and handing a cup to Rex. “But I am here to mourn for my men, nothing more.”

Cody sipped his tea and watched as Obi Wan steadily held Wolffe’s gaze. He had told his brother about him of course, but Cody knew he liked to judge everyone for himself. Wolffe did not trust easily, but Cody watched his expression soften slightly the longer he looked at Obi Wan.

“Okay.”

Obi Wan set the tray down on the desk and took his own cup in hand. There was still one left and Cody knew it was meant for Fives. His General scanned the room and Cody shifted on his cot until his back was against the wall and gestured for him to join.

Obi Wan slipped off his boots and climbed carefully onto the cot, keeping a good amount of space between them. He looked at Rex and Fives and then at Cody. Anger and regret swam in his eyes and it was almost as though he was looking into a distorted mirror.

“I could have done more.”

Fury shook his General’s voice as he glanced from Cody to his brothers again. “Our men, Master Piell’s men, and Charger, and Echo.

“We need to end this war, Cody.”

Obi Wan spoke so softly that Cody had trouble picking out the words. He reached out a hand to reassure him, but the comm on Wolffe’s wrist beeped shrilly and everyone in the room flinched. He glanced down at it irritably.

“They need me in the medbay, but I will be back. I’ll bring more blankets and pillows,” he added, glancing at Cody and Obi Wan.

The light from the corridor was blinding as the door slid open, but then it closed behind Wolffe and the room was plunged back into darkness. The only faint light came from behind the partially-closed door of the refresher. Cody inched closer to Obi Wan until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder, but it wasn’t only for reassurance. Cody’s chest ached for his brothers and he wanted nothing more than to selfishly bury himself in Obi Wan’s presence so he wouldn’t have to think about the number of fallen _vode_ that increased every day.

He wrapped a hand around Obi Wan’s wrist and took a deep, steadying breath. “You did everything you could have, Obi Wan. We got the information that could turn the tide of the war in our favor. We are on our way to Coruscant so that information gets to the people who need it.”

He knew Obi Wan was listening but his gaze was fixed on the opposite bed. They could hear Rex murmuring a litany of names under his breath, and as he got to the very end, Fives finally broke down. His heaving sobs filled the silence of the room and Rex ran a hand over his back, a painful, blank look in his eyes. Cody felt Obi Wan’s hands clench and he tried to rub soothing circles into the fabric of his sleeve.

“We move forward but we do not forget. We mourn and we grieve but we _remember_.”

Obi Wan huffed at hearing his own words echoed back at him. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

Cody slipped an arm around his General and tugged him closer. They were both drained and angry and so very, very tired. They needed this time to grieve.

_ "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." _

Obi Wan looked at Fives and then down into his tea. “For Longshot, and Kay, and Crys, and Loop. For Charger and Echo.

“They are one with the force now, that’s what we are taught; that the Living Force within our bodies flows back into the Cosmic Force when we die, and we keep existing like that… not gone, just, dispersed.”

They listened to Fives weep into Rex’s leg and Cody couldn’t help but latch onto it. Fives was still alive, as were Rex and Obi Wan. The anger he had been carrying around in his chest had smoldered down to a brittle ember, fragile and easy to break.

Obi Wan, possibly sensing Cody’s distress, leaned into him as they both sought comfort in the darkness.

“I’m sorry, Cody.”

“I’m sorry too, Obi Wan.”

After a while, his General began listing tiredly onto Cody’s shoulder, but he didn’t have the heart to move him. Fives’s sobs had died away and Cody pried the empty cup from Obi Wan’s limp fingers, leaning just far enough to set it down on the desk at the foot of the cot.

He caught Rex’s gaze and held it for long enough that he could feel the urge to cry aching behind his eyes. Losing their brothers never got any easier.

“Nightmares?” Rex asked, and Cody knew he was thinking about how they had entered the Citadel as a unit and emerged in pieces.

Cody shifted so that Obi Wan’s head rested more comfortably against his shoulder. “If so, we’ll be right here.”

Cody wasn’t sure whether or not Obi Wan had fallen asleep, but he reached over with his free hand to tap on his outstretched knee. Obi Wan felt every death just as keenly. He had lost not only his men but a fellow Jedi in the Citadel, and Rex and Fives were not the only ones Cody’s heart broke for.

_I’ll be right here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ni ru’urman’gedeti val cuyir morut'yc. Anay ca. Meh mhi ne’lise cabuo kaysh tion’bor vaabir mhi cabuo mhi?_ : I prayed for them to be safe. Every night. If we cannot protect them how do we protect us?  
>  _mirshmure'cya_ : Keldabe kiss, lit.- brain-kiss (I know that a lot of fic writers use _kov'nyn_ which means head-butt, but as far as I can tell _mirshmure'cya_ is the actual noun)  
>  _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_ : Daily remembrance of those passed on *I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.* Followed by repetition of loved ones' names.  
>  _Ni ven’cabuo kaysh, ani’la_ : I will protect them, completely.  
>  _jetii'kad_ : lightsaber  
>  _buy'ce_ : helmet  
>  _Vod'ika gana jaro_ : Little sister has a death wish.  
>  _ara'vod_ : twin  
>  _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ : Not gone, merely marching far away. (Tribute to a dead comrade)
> 
> All color symbolism stuff is taken from the [Mandalorian Guild Wiki](https://the-mandalorian-guild.fandom.com/wiki/Mandalorian_Armor_Meaning).
> 
> I've always liked the interpretation that the two arcs in the Open Circle Fleet emblem represented Obi Wan and Anakin, and I am sticking with it even though there's no actual source.
> 
> (the old friend who gave Obi Wan aquatic plants was totally Bant)
> 
> Art I absolutely had in mind while writing this chapter: ([1](https://necrophatic.tumblr.com/post/618296416000999424/whats-it-called-when-your-brother-interrupts-a)) ([2](https://alliseonline.tumblr.com/post/628880262271565825/no-man-left-behind))
> 
> Cody, watching Obi Wan perfectly use a blaster rifle: hope this doesn't awaken anything in me
> 
> Buckle up, gentle readers, because we are getting into some painful episodes for the next few chapters


	9. Obi Wan is so tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I have to teach freshman comp this term and it's like my own personal hell, but I am still chipping away at this story (which I love), so thank you everyone who is still sticking around!
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

Obi Wan knew his own mind. He may have ignored his feelings on occasion, but for the most part he was well aware of exactly what those feelings were.

And he realized that he had become far closer to his Commander than he had ever intended.

He didn’t mean to lean into Cody’s presence whenever he was in the same room, or miss him when he was gone like a string inside his chest was tugging him to where he needed to be.

As much as Obi Wan appreciated spending time alone, it had become increasingly difficult to do so without facing the constant spectre of doubt and worry that lurked in the corner of his mind. When he was with the other masters he felt pressure to follow the increasing demands of a commandeering Senate, but he knew logically that the pressure did not come from the council itself. Their orders came from Coruscant, and they were all expected to obey.

When he was with Anakin or Ahsoka, there was fondness of course, and pride in their accomplishments, but there was also fear. Fear that they would be hurt (or worse) in some indiscriminate siege when he would not be there to help them. Fear that one or both of them would be captured after they took one too many risks. Fear of Anakin’s possessiveness. Fear of Ahsoka’s inflexible determination.

Fear that he could not give them the guidance they needed.

It was similar with the clones, seeing the rows of spotless white armor as new batches of shinies were deployed from Kamino. All with no paint. Some with no names.

But, somehow, Cody _understood_. Not all of the hurts specific to being a Jedi during a time of war (though he understood enough that it made Obi Wan wonder if he had done research on the subject or if his training with Shaak Ti included nothing but discussions of philosophy), but he and Cody shared the burden of leadership and everything that came with it.

It was with Cody that he felt comfortable enough to sleep curled up in a shared a bunk for well-needed rest after the Battle of Kamino. Cody whose concern was so visible that Quinlan immediately began to tease him about having another suitor fawning over him (Obi Wan shot down that idea from beneath heated cheeks, even after Quinlan grudgingly admitted that he approved of Cody and Obi Wan felt a surge of smug pride). When they returned from Teth, Cody tended to the burns he had received from Bane’s stun gauntlets and the gentle way he took Obi Wan’s hand made his chest go tight.

It wasn’t until the matter of his bracers that he realized just how far gone he was.

Obi Wan expected some kind of argument from Cody when he decided to stop wearing his armor, some plea for him to keep himself safe to fight another day. Cody already complained about all the times Obi Wan’s lightsaber ended up hooked onto his belt instead of in the proper hands… but it didn’t happen. Instead he received a peace offering—a new pair of bracers, freshly painted with the symbol of the Open Circle Fleet by what he guessed was Cody’s steady hand.

He could tell from the tang of anxiety in the air that Cody had given them fully expecting his gift to be rejected, but the more Obi Wan looked at them the more he wanted to reach out and smooth away the jagged edges of worry he felt in the force.

Cody had not argued against his decision, had not forced him to stay away from combat until he changed his mind. He met him in the middle, gave him a gift he was free to refuse, and Obi Wan didn’t know what to do with the feeling blooming beneath his ribs.

Obi Wan remembered telling Cody once that he valued the connections he made with his fellow jedi more than any one place, and now, looking at the carefully rendered lines of the Open Circle Fleet, the symbol that many took to represent his connection to Anakin, and he couldn’t help but feel as though Cody had understood every word.

 _Vor Entye._ I accept a debt.

Yes, he did owe Cody a debt.

A debt for every encouraging word. For every comforting gesture. For every time he followed Obi Wan’s lead with absolute loyalty even when Obi Wan himself was unsure of their success. For every time he returned the lightsaber that had been knocked from his hand, sometimes with a lecture, sometimes with only a fond smile.

This wasn’t like the brief surges of attraction that he had acknowledged but pushed aside, this was more.

Obi Wan felt Cody’s fingers on his shoulder as he stared at the bracers, but he found that his feet were rooted to the spot. He heard the door slide closed somewhere behind him as Cody left the room. Obi Wan traced the painted arcs and considered the emotion that filled his chest like a rising tide.

He tried to picture his life after the war, something he did on occasion when he needed to distance himself from the present. He could only imagine that the war _would_ end with a Republic victory because to imagine the opposite was to let his hope crumble beneath despair.

Before, he would see himself back in the temple. Perhaps he would take on another padawan, go on more peacekeeping missions where the biggest danger was between two tribes on a single planet. Anakin and Ahsoka would filter in and out on their own missions and he would watch them grow, unfettered by the demands of war. But now, whenever Obi Wan pictured this future, Cody was there next to him, sharing a meal at their little table, standing close enough to touch, steady and devoted and always _right there_.

Obi Wan couldn’t picture a happy future where his Commander wasn’t at his side, and what was worse, he didn’t want to.

The wise thing to do would have been to pull away, but Obi Wan found he couldn’t. In the mud on Mimban he lifted Cody into his arms the moment he felt his Commander’s emotions twist in pain. He could feel Cody’s warmth even through the plastoid of his armor as he carried him to safety. Obi Wan held him close until they made it to the evac shuttle, setting Cody down on one of the benches, quickly bumping his temple against the side of the striped helmet.

“I’ll get the rest of our men,” he said quietly, pulling away before he gave in to the temptation to stay. Cody’s presence was warm in the back of his mind and Obi Wan clung to it even as he walked away.

Obi Wan stared at the hologram of a hulking Dathomirian zabrak and images of Naboo flickered behind his eyes. He could feel the phantom sensation of a padawan braid against his neck. But this was not Maul. The same fury and destruction, but not the same man who had murdered Qui Gon Jinn.

He and Anakin were sent to a village on Dathomir and soon they had an audience with the reclusive Nightsisters, that face staring out at him from a glowing crystal ball. They witnessed Savage Opress’s ferocity firsthand on Toydaria, and the sight of a double-bladed red lightsaber gave Obi Wan pause. They were too late to save King Katuunko, but they followed Savage to his Separatist ship and were left to ponder over his allegiances when the battle droids turned against him.

After Savage’s escape, they only returned to Coruscant long enough to be informed of a mysterious distress signal from Wild Space. Obi Wan stopped at the barracks to inform Cody that he was being sent out with Anakin and Ahsoka while the _Negotiator_ remained over Coruscant. A hologram would have been quicker but Obi Wan couldn’t leave without seeing his Commander, especially when they had been separated for weeks already and he didn’t know how long the latest mission would take.

He was glad he took the time to do so because that spark of warmth was one of the things he clung to after the events on Mortis.

Waking up in their shuttle again and hearing Rex tell them that the last three days had taken mere minutes made him briefly hope that the entire encounter had been a particularly vivid dream. But the looks in Anakin and Ahsoka’s eyes told him that wasn’t the case.

Obi Wan felt rattled, like some truth he held dear had shaken loose and slipped through his fingers. Anakin threw himself into repairing one of the ships in the hangar bay after they gave a brief, confusing report to the Council and Ahsoka disappeared after him. Obi Wan commed Cody to let him know they were on their way back to Coruscant and stayed in his quarters for the entire flight back.

Once they landed he went straight to his rooms in the Temple and was consumed in meditation. Each time he tried he was besieged with images of Anakin and hateful yellow eyes lit by the glow of lava flows. What had he seen that made him look at Obi Wan with such anger? Was it something Obi Wan would do?

The memory of Mortis ached in the back of his skull like a premonition and he couldn’t get rid of it or write it off as Anakin had.

Cody found him there, a gentle knock in the suffocating silence, and he lit up the small space with his concern. Obi Wan soaked in the spotlight of his attention while they sat at his little table and talked.

Cody was right there with him, always. He didn’t burden Obi Wan with questions though he could see the concern in those amber eyes, and Obi Wan wasn’t quite sure what to make of the experience anyway. He couldn’t help but let it become one of the nightmares that haunted him, but he wouldn’t let it spill into his waking life. Cody didn’t deserve to live with it too.

________________________

Their mission to Lola Sayu, to the Citadel to rescue Master Piell, was a challenge that called for luck as well as strategy, but it turned out their luck was in short supply.

When Ahsoka smuggled herself into their team Rex’s anxiety was almost palpable. He was more protective of her than even Anakin, and Obi Wan couldn’t help but agree. Their numbers shrank steadily after that. Each death reached into his head and plucked at his frayed nerves, making them vibrate with pain. He wanted to reach out and soothe the steadily growing anger that radiated from Cody, but both of them gritted their teeth and pushed themselves through the grief while their mission hung in the balance.

They pushed and pushed until most of their team was gone, including Master Piell, but they had obtained the information that was so vital to the Republic.

Master Koon got to their location just in time to shuttle them onto the _Courageous_ , and his medics quickly descended upon the survivors of Master Piell’s ship.

There was hurt and exhaustion emanating from Cody and his brothers so strongly that Obi Wan didn’t want to leave their sides, but the look Cody gave him from beneath his helmet indicated that he should follow Ahsoka and Plo to debrief the council. Obi Wan was hesitant but he turned and headed toward the bridge, throwing a look over his shoulder to watch Commander Wolffe corral them out of the hangar bay.

His footsteps rang against the durasteel as he passed through deserted corridors on the way to the briefing room. Each footfall echoed inside his head with the grief he could still feel from his Commander even a whole ship apart. The strength of the emotion extended their tenuous link in the force and it rung like a plucked chord.

He stepped into the room off the bridge and into the soft blue light of the holoprojector as Ahsoka finished saying something to Master Yoda, one of her hands still hanging in the air.

“Master Kenobi.” The acknowledgement came from several different voices through their tinny speakers. Master Windu turned to face him.

“Padawan Tano has informed us of the heavy losses sustained by the 501st, but what of the 212th?”

Obi Wan cut his gaze to the floor before looking up again. “Myself and Cody are the only survivors.”

A murmur swept through the masters and eventually someone cleared their throat.

“Returning to Coruscant, you are. Review the information of the Nexus Hyperspace Route then, we will.” Master Yoda looked unusually small as he stared up at Obi Wan from his council chair. His eyes were wide and grave.

“Look after your men, Obi Wan. And make sure they understand that their information will save many more lives.” There was resigned regret written on Master Windu’s face and Obi Wan remembered that he had lost his commander a few months before.

“I will.” He bowed to the council and their holograms flickered out.

Ahsoka went to find Anakin in the medbay and Plo led Obi Wan into the mess hall. They watched the number of troopers steadily decline as the day shift ended and the night shift began, the lights changing to a soft glow to conserve power and imitate a standard planetary cycle. Obi Wan tried to focus as best as he could but snatches of grief would zip through his mind sporadically.

They were sat near one of the walls lined with drink machines and he looked them over critically, seeing water and caf and thick protein sludges.

“Do you have any decaffeinated tea, Master Plo?”

There was amusement hidden behind the respirator as he leaned over to one of the dispensers and returned with a handful of familiar sachets. It was the same kind that Cookie stocked; Obi Wan wondered if it was standard across the GAR.

“I may have converted some of my men to tea over caf. This is the kind that Comet likes.” There was fond affection in his voice.

Plo watched Obi Wan sympathetically before pressing a few more teabags into his hand. He jerked his head towards the window into the kitchen. “I’m sure if you ask Fisher he’ll make you a few cups.”

Obi Wan clenched his hand, forcing a breath out through his nose as he watched a couple of troopers milling around the mostly-empty mess hall.

“We completed the mission. We got the information.” The color decorating the plastoid was all wrong, and his mind rebelled at the grey markings where he wanted to see familiar gold. “We’re doing this for _them._ It has to be worth it.”

Plo followed his gaze and Obi Wan felt the force stir with protective concern. There was none of the righteous anger that he felt on occasion, or that he knew Shaak Ti struggled with after being so close to the cadets for so long. Master Plo had always been a pillar of serene strength and Obi Wan admired him even now. His calm did not mean he did not feel anger, only that he had learned that there were better ways to channel it. The only minor tic that revealed his agitation was the gentle tapping of his clawed fingers against each other.

“It will be worth it, when we can end this war and make the Republic acknowledge the clones for the people they are.” Master Koon’s rumbling voice quieted as the comm went off at his wrist.

“General, we would like to inform you that General Piell’s men have been stabilized.”

“Very good, Patch. I will be down shortly.” Plo looked at Obi Wan again, then down to where his gloves were stretched thin over his knuckles as his fingers clamped firmly around the teabags. “Master Piell knew what he was doing. You and Skywalker and your men risked everything to finish his mission, and we _will_ finish it, Obi Wan, we will finish it for them.”

He laid a solid hand on Obi Wan’s shoulder before turning to leave the mess hall. There were no troopers left in sight now, and the teabags were being crushed in his absent-minded grip. Obi Wan drifted over to the kitchen and Fisher did indeed bring out enough mugs and boiling water for five. Fives and Rex and Cody would be together, of course, but it was also likely Wolffe would stay close to his brothers’ sides for the night.

Obi Wan followed the thread of dull aching sadness in his head until he came to a stop in front of one of the spare officer’s quarters. Commander Wolffe let him in even though he seemed wary of Obi Wan, but that was not a surprise with everything he’d heard about General Plo’s second-in-command. But Obi Wan was in no mood to stand on ceremony, and when Cody gestured next to him on the bed he did not hesitate to join him.

The amount of sadness hanging in the air sparked Obi Wan’s anger again, and though he tried to keep his distance, when Cody closed the gap between them he could not help but pull strength from the warm press of his body. His touch burned where he curled his fingers around Obi-Wan’s wrist.

The grief swimming through the air weighed on his every nerve and he was exhausted. When he could no longer keep himself upright he leaned into Cody, hoping he would not be pushed away. Instead he was pulled closer, fingers tapping reassurance against his knee and the feel of Cody’s chin tucked against his temple.

He knew that there were other places he was expected to be, but he stayed exactly where he was needed.

________________________

Not long after that, all of the men received new sets of armor, similar to what they had been wearing before but with slight modifications and different lines. The helmets had extra filtration units that widened the jawline and most of the men were thrilled to repaint their designs. Obi Wan left them to it, standing off to the side as he watched new color bloom over the fresh plastoid.

Cody sidled up next to him, the clean lines of a golden sunburst spilling over his chest. Between that, the affectionate way he looked over his brothers, and the warmth he exuded in the force, it felt to Obi Wan like he was an orbiting body around Cody’s bright star.

“I know you’re far from a shiny, my dear, but you’re practically gleaming today.”

Cody’s cheeks turned a ruddy shade of pink and he straightened, smiling gently. Before he could say anything, however, a hand snaked toward him and tugged the newly-painted helmet out from where it was tucked against his body. Boil held it up, scrutinizing the little golden hash marks Cody had painted around the filters at the chin, similar to where they had been on his old helmet.

“Hey Waxer,” he gestured to his friend who slid in beside him. “Does this look familiar to you?”

His voice was very obviously nonchalant and Obi Wan saw Cody’s flush deepen. One of his hands shot out to grab the helmet but Boil lifted it out of his reach before his fingers could make contact.

“Oh yeah,” said Waxer, exaggerating his movements as he looked at the helmet and then at Obi Wan. He took it from Boil and shoved it over his own head, stepping aside to avoid another angry swipe from Cody. Waxer made an exaggerated thinking noise and stroked the chin of the helmet with one hand.

Obi Wan watched Cody lunge toward Boil, his ears burning as his brother darted out of his grip, but a low ringing had started in his ears. His hand came up to his beard absently and he stared at the marks on the helmet as Boil ran past. They were similar, yes, the color was almost right too, close to the red-gold of his own hair. Was that intentional? Did Cody mean to connect them in such a way? No, he couldn’t have, the color of the battalion had been picked out before they met. And in any case, Cody was his own person, he would never tie himself to Obi Wan, and Obi Wan would never ask him to, no matter how much he had tied himself to his Commander in turn.

Waxer and Boil ran across his line of sight, snickering, but Cody had gotten his helmet back and refused to look at them. He walked back over, the blush slowly fading from his face.

Obi Wan shot him a look out of the corner of his eye.

“Were they right?” His voice was soft but he needed to know.

Cody traced one of the gold lines on the helmet. “The first time it was a coincidence I didn’t see until later, but this time… it was intentional.” He wasn’t looking at Obi Wan and there was a roiling anxiety hanging in the air.

Obi Wan’s heart thudded against his ribs and he could feel his own cheeks heat beneath his beard. He smiled at Cody and tried not to think too hard about his Commander’s decision to integrate Obi Wan into his personal armor design.

“Not everyone can pull off this particular look, but I think you do it admirably.”

In Obi Wan’s opinion, Cody’s smile glowed even brighter than the painted sun on his chest.

________________________

Umbara was cold and dark. The fog blended into the low-hanging clouds, blocking any nonexistent sunlight from reaching the vegetation that spread across the dark jungle planet. Obi Wan almost wished it had been an arctic tundra, but the cold here was damp and creeping just as much as the roots that spread beneath his feet. The trees had tentacle-like branches that moved lazily through the air and pulsed a dull red color. The only other illumination were the flashes of green from the Umbaran blasters that threw shadows over white plastoid.

Together with the 501st, the 212th would flank the capital and hopefully bring it under Republic control. But not long into the campaign, Obi Wan got a comm from Anakin that he had been recalled back to Coruscant on the Chancellor’s orders, to be replaced with General Krell. Something didn’t feel right. There was no emergency that he knew of, no reason for him and him alone to be pulled from a crucial operation to reclaim a key planet.

As he called in to notify the 501st of the nearby airbase, he watched the hologram of General Krell and the odd feeling crawling up his spine increased. Loud shattering noises of explosions could be heard through the tinny speakers, the cries of dying men cut through the din, and all the while Krell never looked away from Obi Wan. Never glanced over to check on his men. Never even flinched at the sounds of their screams.

As a Jedi, being detached did not mean being blind to the suffering of others, in fact it was quite the opposite. Obi Wan hoped that sending them to the airbase would mean they wouldn’t have to face the bulk of the entrenched Umbaran forces head on, and he took note of the stiff way Cody was watching the other General through the holocomm.

“We’ll get to them,” he told his Commander, trying to inject more levity into his voice than he currently felt. They were facing their own front as they tried to find a point of entry into the capital.

They didn’t hear anything from the 501st for another day, and Obi Wan sent a comm to the captured airbase where General Krell was waiting. There were no sounds of destruction in the background, and in the silence he saw Rex standing in Krell’s shadow. With Anakin, the Captain had always been nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, a glint of amusement in his eye, but now he was purposefully dwarfed by the besalisk. When the hologram booted up he sent Obi Wan a brief anxious look, but then he fell back into a carefully neutral expression with his shoulders pulled taught.

When Krell suggested they take the capital despite the casualties that would be incurred by the Umbaran’s long range missiles, both Obi Wan and Rex looked at him in surprise. Cody made a move to step forward from where he was watching the call just out of frame. But then the hologram cut off as the Umbarans finally found the right frequency to block.

Obi Wan thought about all the times he had gone over every possible permutation of a plan with Cody so that it could be carried out with the minimum amount of risk and he recoiled from Krell’s callous endangerment of his men. Once they were off-planet Obi Wan would bring his indifference up with the council. No jedi should ever be that careless about the men under their command, no matter what.

The next day there was a transmission from the field—some of the Umbaran ground troops had ambushed one of their scouting parties. They’d seized weapons and armor and the intel said they were getting ready to push their offensive. After conferring with Cody, he sent a platoon to investigate, telling them to keep an ear open for any further transmissions.

They didn’t hear the results of the ambush until later.

Anger such as Obi Wan had not felt since he watched his Master cut down on Naboo coursed through him, burning away his carefully-constructed control until all that was left was ash and the cold shadow of restraint.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to bind Pong Krell in durasteel chains and demand an explanation until his voice went hoarse.

**_How Dare He._ **

Obi Wan focused on the pain as his fingernails dug shallow cuts into his palms, grounded himself in it. The anger was too familiar and he heard the kind but sharp reprimand of Master Vant echo in his mind. _Initiate Kenobi. Mind your emotions._ He hadn’t struggled with his temper for almost 15 years, forced to find his calm within the whirlwind that was Anakin, but it still lingered. Now it pushed against the bounds of his control like an elastex band close to snapping.

But there wasn’t anything for him to strike. Pong Krell was dead, abandoned in the Umbaran dirt just outside of the compound. Obi Wan knew that the Jedi Council would likely send a retrieval team to recover his body and bring it back to Coruscant, but everything in him was screaming to let the besalisk rot where he lay.

 _How Dare He_.

Obi Wan had tried. He had tried so hard to give his men the hope that they were meant for more than life as living droid fodder. He told them the Kaminoans were wrong. He encouraged them to explore and listen and savor and _live._

And Pong Krell had ordered them to die.

The smell of charred flesh still lingered in the air. There were bodies slashed with lightsaber burns from _jedi_ weapons. No. _Sith_ weapons. The color of the blade did nothing to hide the rotten core of the wielder, and Rex had given them his report in a hollow voice that rattled with his fury.

 _ “Dar’jetii," _ he spat. “Wanted Dooku to make him his apprentice. Thought that killing us and taking back Umbara could get him that.”

Obi Wan could feel Cody’s anger feeding his own, and vice versa. They were creating a feedback loop of rage that swirled between them, even though they were both trying as hard as possible not to give in to it.

Because they had finally taken the capital, their ships were able to situate themselves above the planet, and transport shuttles were sent to the surface to retrieve the rest of the ground troops. When they reached the hangar bay on the _Negotiator_ he turned to Cody, who hadn’t left his side since they climbed into the shuttle.

“Go, be with your brothers. I have some words I would like to say to the Council.”

Cody glanced over at the remains of the platoon that had been massacred by Krell; Bara hadn’t been able to let go of his blaster, Peel’s eyes were darting from face to face as though they might disappear, Wooley was shaking slightly, and Boil hadn’t spoken a word in hours.

Cody himself was as tense as an engine coil and his hands were clenched so tightly Obi Wan could feel the residual ache. But he nodded anyway and ushered everyone toward the corridor that led to the barracks.

Obi Wan headed toward the bridge, his own back hunched and his mind full of anger and grief. The door to the briefing room slid shut behind him and he punched in the comm to the Temple where the council was waiting for their report. Obi Wan had no desire to bring Anakin into this, knowing full well what his reaction would be once Rex debriefed him.

“Masters.” He bowed slightly when their images flickered to life in front of him, his spine pin-straight. The tone of his voice caused Master Fisto’s eyes to widen and Master Gallia looked at him in surprise.

“News, we have received. That captured Umbara, you have.” Master Yoda’s head was tilted to the side and he looked at Obi Wan with a puzzled expression.

He inclined his head. “That is correct. However, Pong Krell is dead.”

There was an intake of breath from around the room and General Plo gave voice to their surprise.

“Master Krell, dead? How did this happen?”

“No, not a Master.”

Obi Wan wished absurdly that he was wearing his regular robes so that he could hide his trembling fingers inside the draping sleeves. But now he braced them behind his back instead where the other masters could not see them.

He described the carnage on the planet below and Krell’s hand in it. His gaze stayed fixed somewhere in the air between masters Yoda and Gallia, not wishing them to look into his eyes and notice the guilt and rage and sadness that still burned through him. When he finished, he saw Master Windu glance over at Yoda and knew they were seeing echoes of the padawan he had been, once—quick to anger and prone to recklessness. He had tried for years to keep those feelings well-controlled, but this massacre was nearing too much.

The other masters were grave. They had no more sensed Krell’s decent to the dark side than Obi Wan had, and his betrayal cut to the heart of their muddled foresight. They debated for over an hour over what to do with Krell until they came to the agreement that his body was to be taken back to the Temple. The Order would cremate his remains but they would not give him a formal ceremony and he would be posthumously stripped of his Jedi title.

When the meeting ended, Obi Wan felt several eyes on him as the council lingered, unsure of how to acknowledge the destruction Krell had caused.

So many dead for one jedi’s treachery.

Cody found him later in one of the training rooms in the lower decks of the ship. Meditation had been harder to sink into than normal and he had wandered in to practice his katas, hoping to lose himself in the repetitive movement.

Stripped down to his sleeveless tunic and sweating despite the chill of the room, he heard a low rustle of fabric and turned to see Cody sit heavily on one of the benches nearby. He was wearing set of soft red sleepclothes and Obi Wan stilled, powering down his lightsaber and letting it swing to his side.

“Cody? You should be with your brothers.”

He looked at Obi Wan.

“I have been, but the last of them just fell asleep. It’s well into the night shift, Obi Wan.”

It hadn’t felt that long, but the events of the day were still rubbing his mind raw and he could feel the same staticky unease from Cody. He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at his Commander, seeing how his hands twisted in his lap, his head hanging over his knees. Cody’s force signature sparked with residual anger so unlike his usual steady calm.

Obi Wan padded over to where cases of training staffs were tucked against the wall and he lifted two out carefully. He walked back to Cody with them in hand. Obi Wan watched his Commander blink in surprise when he saw what he was holding, tracking the movement as Obi Wan lifted one to him.

After he took it, Obi Wan stepped back and Cody stood to follow, automatically adjusting his grip on the staff as though he meant to defend against an incoming blow.

He looked down at the weapon. “Sir?”

Obi Wan busied himself with his own staff to avoid meeting Cody’s eye. They were no longer feeding each other’s emotions but Obi Wan could still feel the outrage simmering just beneath the surface.

“Neither of us wants platitudes, neither of us can go back and change the past, no matter how much we want to, and neither of us are sleeping tonight. We can both pretend we don’t need something to hit or we can work through it now, together.”

Cody studied him and whatever he saw in his eyes made him tighten his grip on the staff, nodding. His lips pressed into a thin line as he followed Obi Wan out onto the mat.

They circled each other, each waiting for the right moment to strike. Obi Wan knew Cody to be a cautious, calculating fighter, and when he understood his opponent’s strategies he pressed every advantage ruthlessly. Now Obi Wan saw hesitation and understood that Cody was fighting every instinct not to hit his commanding officer.

So Obi Wan struck first.

He ignored the ebb and flow of the force, wanting only to quiet the portion of his mind still prickling with fury about what had happened. He fell back on the familiar muscle memory of years of training, and Cody caught every blow until he pushed past years of training etiquette.

He began striking back and Obi Wan was put on the defensive beneath a series of vicious blows. He was close enough to see a muscle jumping at the corner of Cody’s jaw.

They broke apart and circled other again when Cody broke the silence.

“We should have been there.”

His teeth were gritted and Obi Wan blocked a blow thrown harder than he would have anticipated.

“We should have checked their transmissions.” Obi Wan shot back, twisting to hook the end of his staff behind Cody’s, his anger fueling the jab, but his Commander darted out of the way. They fought for another few minutes, their weapons cracking against each other in the emptiness of the training room. Cody’s movements were not as crisp as they usually were, his unbalanced emotions making his swings go wide.

“I should have gone with them.”

Obi Wan’s mind was full of images of Cody’s body crumpled under an Umbaran tree and he reacted with more force than he intended. He withdrew from his Commander’s retaliatory jab and tried to sweep at his ankles, but Cody caught his staff again and braced, each of them pushing mightily on the other.

“I should have sensed Krell’s deception.”

Cody shook his head vehemently. “No, no this isn’t your fault.”

Obi Wan swung his staff up near Cody’s head, but his Commander caught it easily, holding his gaze as well as the blow.

“Nor is it yours.”

Cody made a noise and lunged, but Obi Wan had a foot hooked around his ankle and they both went rolling onto the mat, staffs thrown to the side when they were no longer useful in such close combat. Cody had nearly gained the upper hand when Obi Wan threw his legs around his Commander’s waist and twisted. He ended up straddling Cody, pinning his hands on either side of his head, throwing his weight down hard so he wouldn’t have the leverage to flip them.

Cody lurched forward intending to hit Obi Wan’s chin or nose but he jerked just out of reach. His head made a gentle _thud_ as it fell back onto the mat. They stared at each other, breathing heavily, and the fire in Cody’s eyes changed into something unreadable.

Obi Wan slumped, winded, until his face hung inches from his Commander’s. Cody lifted his head from the mat again.

Their foreheads met in a deliberate press and Obi Wan pushed back gently to let Cody know that he was not going anywhere.

There was familiarity in the motion. There was a bitter, fierce need to protect that mattered now more than ever.

He kept the pressure constant while they caught their breath, his eyes closing as he focused on the heat of Cody’s skin against his and the grip he maintained around his wrists, keeping them pinned to the floor. To move his hands, to bring one of his palms up to rest on the back of Cody’s neck would take the moment into a true _ mirshmure’cya. _

He wanted it more than was wise, more than was reasonable.

Cody’s lips were inches from his and he _couldn’t_.

Obi Wan pulled back and opened his eyes, watching Cody’s head fall back onto the mat and his eyelashes flutter. The intensity of his gaze made Obi Wan release his wrists and roll onto the floor; his fingers burned and his cheeks stayed flushed even after he caught his breath. Cody’s body heat seeped across the air between them and his force signature glowed. It was too tempting to close the gap and curl into him but Obi Wan stayed where he was and listened to his Commander’s gentle breathing.

Obi Wan’s own rage had cooled somewhat. The feedback loop born of their anger had abated and instead tension hummed in the force like a plucked string.

He heard movement and fingers brushed gently against the back of his hand, the contact searing in the cool training room.

“Thank you, Obi Wan.”

He threaded his fingers lightly through Cody’s, both of them still staring up at the ceiling. Obi Wan felt the pulse of his Commander’s heartbeat strong against his skin and he held on, thinking of all the moments he could not have.

________________________

Just when they had found their balance again, they were summoned to check on the planet Kiros. As soon as they learned that the zygerrians were behind the disappearance of the colonists, Obi Wan’s focus became tempering Anakin’s emotions and the way they clouded the air with their strength.

When he spoke with Commander D’Nar it was only a matter of stalling him long enough for Anakin and Ahsoka to disarm the bombs planted around the town as Obi Wan goaded the zygerrian into a fight. It was painful; Obi Wan held back as much as he could to give them more time, his own anger stoked by the slaver’s hateful words.

Once they finally got the news that the bombs were disabled he briefly took out his anger on the Commander’s droids, but he was forced to make a choice when D’Nar activated the supercommando’s self-destruct. If the droid went off inside the tower it would risk taking down the entire structure, including himself and D’Nar, but Obi Wan couldn’t endure the idea of his men below being hurt in the collapse. He pushed the droid into the air to detonate away from anyone else, but D’Nar got away in the commotion.

By the end of the day, Anakin had recaptured the Separatist Commander along with his ship, and the Council had come up with a plan to infiltrate Zygerria in order to find out where the missing colonists were being held. He could tell Cody didn’t like it, and Obi Wan couldn’t disagree. His ribs were still bruised and his throat ached from where he had been thrown around by D’Nar. But they both knew it was their best bet to find the togrutans.

Anakin fixed up D’Nar’s ship so they could use it to get onto the planet, and when they met in the hangar bay Cody was already there, speaking to Rex. The Captain’s gaze shot between Obi Wan and Cody, smiling slightly, but he nodded at whatever his brother was saying and moved toward them. As Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex climbed onto the stolen ship, Cody gestured to Obi Wan.

“Please,” he said, voice low, “Be careful. We’ve seen what the zygerrians are capable of.”

Obi Wan tapped on his Commander’s wrist as he responded. “I will. We’ll come back _with_ the colonists.”

Cody looked him in the eye again, the traced his way down Obi Wan’s body, taking in the still stiff way he was holding himself, but he nodded. Obi Wan climbed onto the ship and only broke eye contact when the cargo bay door slammed closed.

They flew to Zygerria in the stolen ship, changing into new clothes on the way so they could infiltrate the slaver compound without arousing suspicion.

Obi Wan and Rex, disguised as zygerrian guards, toured the palace. Rex was following him just off his right shoulder, not as close as Cody usually stood, but enough that Obi Wan knew the Captain was guarding him.

They found the togrutan governor fairly quickly while Anakin and Ahsoka distracted the Queen, but in the chaos of trying to get him out of the palace they were thrown from the back of the brezak they were riding. He didn’t know where they had moved Governor Roshti and he could only hope Rex had gotten out safely, but they led Obi Wan down into a dungeon where he felt nothing but the sting of electrowhips as they attempted to get him to talk.

For better or for worse, Obi Wan had withstood similar torture in the past, and as long as they only thought he was a rebellious slaver they would be able to get away with the plan to infiltrate the palace, but his hopes were dashed when the Prime Minister recognized him and he was led into one of the central arenas.

The dusty sunlight and the jeering crowd brought back uncomfortable memories of Geonosis, though at least he was grateful he would not be made to fight an aklay this time. Obi Wan hoped Anakin had obtained the information they needed.

Instead, the rescue attempt ended in the arena. Chaos erupted when Anakin tried to free him and zygerrian soldiers pinned them in from all sides. He heard the muffled thump of Rex hitting the ground to his left, then a dozen electrowhips struck as the guards swarmed them. It wasn’t long until one caught his wrist, then his neck, and he blacked out from the pain.

The cargo hold was dark when he opened his eyes to the shudder of landing gear hitting the ground. He jerked upright on a bench and looked around—Rex was there with him, as well as Governor Roshti. All of them had shock collars around their necks and chains at their wrists as they were marched in front of the slavemaster. Obi Wan flinched when Keeper Agruss sent the captive togrutas falling to their deaths and he heard Rex’s intake of breath next to him. After that they were led by the threat of electrostaffs deeper into the facility.

The mines were hot and humid. Every breath felt like inhaling dense fog and the rhythmic clamor of the machines grated on his ears. He could only imagine that it was worse for the togrutans, whose montrals made them more sensitive to every vibration.

And when he tried to help, it only made things worse.

The colonists were punished for his actions, and every strike of the electrowhip caused them more pain that he could not prevent. He saw Rex’s look of revulsion at the zygerrians out of the corner of his eye, but when he met his gaze there was only sadness and resolve.

Every time he wanted to fight back, it only made things worse. He shrunk back from the guards when he wanted to throw them to the ground as his anger mounted again, as furiously as it had on Umbara. The only thing that kept him from fighting his way through the electrowhips and guards was the knowledge that colonists would be killed for his actions, and the fact that Rex was always right there beside him, lending him silent strength when he could not speak it aloud.

Rex’s presence was a balm to his rage, and Obi Wan found himself missing his Commander’s steady warmth in the back of his mind. The Captain was similar, his loyalty just as strong, but his force presence was light and quick and changeable. Obi Wan was not surprised he managed to keep up with Anakin as well as he did.

At the end of the first day he sat in his bunk and curled his knees up to his chest, trying to find a space in his mind that would be calm enough for meditation, but the sounds of pain that echoed down the corridors rattled around inside his head until he was forced to abandon the idea.

Rex was in the opposite bunk and the guards patrolled the barracks too frequently for them to attempt to have a conversation. But Rex’s fingers twitched and Obi Wan realized he was signaling like they did in the field.

_General, are you alright?_

Obi Wan’s ribs creaked and his back ached and he could feel burns from the shock collar as the metal rubbed against his neck. His tunics were torn and there were several holes burned through them where sparks had jumped from the electrowhips.

_I’ll be okay. Are you injured?_

Rex shook his head. _Not seriously, but I can still feel those whips._

He adjusted his shoulder where it was crammed against the side of the bunk, scanned the room for the guards, then looked at Obi Wan with bitterness in his eyes.

 _I was supposed to keep an eye on you. I’ve done a bang-up job at that_.

Obi Wan’s surprise gave way to a wave of fond warmth that bubbled up in his chest.

_Cody worries too much. I should be the one looking after you._

But the more he thought, the more anger cut through his affection. _I should be able to help these people._

They were forced to stay silent and still for a few minutes while a guard passed by, throwing them a suspicious look through the slits in his helmet. Once he passed Rex gave Obi Wan a piercing look that was far too much like his brother.

 _This is not your fault. You are_ not _the one hurting these people._

Obi Wan made a noise of protest. _They hurt the colonists_ because _of me_.

Rex looked like he wanted to jump the space between the bunks but he stayed where he was.

_You are not the one holding the electrowhip. The zygerrians are doing this. Don’t let them convince you that you are to blame._

Rex held his gaze defiantly until Obi Wan was forced to drop his eyes when another guard strode past. They settled back into their bunks.

Obi Wan scrubbed a hand over his face and curled up on the hard metal. He watched Rex try to relax enough to catch a few hours of sleep and he pushed a wave of peace into the force that he did not feel.

He fought the exhaustion that clawed at him because it was more than just physical. The shock collars were just that, they did not block him from using the force, and that meant he felt all the pain from those around him.

It compounded until Obi Wan felt like collapsing under its weight.

The next morning they were summoned by Keeper Agruss and Obi Wan couldn’t help the stoop of his shoulders or the way he turned automatically toward Rex, wanting to protect him but also so used to having someone else at his side. The zygerrian’s motives were clarified when they were brought before a hologram of Count Dooku and sentenced to execution.

He could feel Rex’s desire for action when they heard Anakin’s voice over the comm, but of course his former padawan would refuse to back down. Moments later the facility shuddered beneath their feet as the scanners informed them of the arrival of a Republic fleet. Distantly they heard the noise of bombers overhead. Obi Wan used the distraction to break apart their shock collars and move to disarm the guards, but Agruss was doing something at the controls and he could feel a wave of fear go up from deep inside the facility. _The togrutas._

The room continued to shake under heavy bombardment as Agruss destroyed the control panel. There were noises of a fight behind him as Rex took down more of the guards and Obi Wan tried and failed to coax the control panel back to life. Soon he was pinned down by blasterfire as more guards stormed into the room and Rex resumed the fight.

Obi Wan wasted no time summoning his lightsaber from Agruss’s hoverchair, but then he was glued to the spot.

“Come now, Master Kenobi, I know a Jedi won’t kill an unarmed man.”

And he couldn’t. All the times he had argued with himself, or with Cody, that he was meant to be a peacekeeper and not a soldier. He wouldn’t deny that he was angry or that the sight of the togrutas in chains didn’t make his blood boil, but Agruss was right. Obi Wan _wouldn’t_ kill an unarmed foe.

He turned to Rex and watched his expression harden like rock. He hoisted an electrostaff and launched it directly at Agruss, impaling him and making his hoverchair spin out of control with no one left to pilot it. Obi Wan gritted his teeth at the death, not wanting to thank Rex for killing but grateful nonetheless for taking the choice out of his hands.

Anakin arrived shortly after that, sparing a short glance of disgust at Agruss and relief for himself and Rex. They raced out of the facility and onto a shuttle that would take them to the _Courageous_ with the rescued togruta colonists.

He and Rex were ushered into the medbay to treat the worst of their wounds and Patch looked murderous when he saw the marks left by the electrowhips. He stuck Obi Wan in bacta as they made their way back to Coruscant.

As soon as they stepped off the shuttle at the Temple, Obi Wan’s eyes immediately snapped to Cody who he could feel waiting on the side of the platform. His gaze raked over the bruising under Obi Wan’s eyes and the way he was avoiding twisting his back and there was so much concern there it made something in his chest catch.

“I’ll be okay,” he said softly. “But I am supposed to take it easy for the next few days. Would you mind accompanying me to my quarters?”

Obi Wan could see Cody’s helmet twist to look at the other Jedi on the platform questioningly.

“I’ve already checked in with the Council via hologram before we landed. I’ve been placed on leave for a few days.”

Cody nodded even though his hands twitched to reach out and Obi Wan felt phantom weight on his shoulder and his wrist where Cody had comforted him before.

They walked back through the Temple, Cody following him silently like a watchful shadow just off his shoulder. When the door slid shut behind them Obi Wan felt Cody’s gentle fingers at his elbow leading him to one of the chairs and he smiled.

“I did spend a day in bacta, you know. My injuries aren’t raw anymore.”

His Commander removed his helmet and set it on the table. He walked into the kitchenette and turned on the kettle, pulling mugs and tea out of a cabinet to set them on the counter.

“I know. But I also know that bacta doesn’t do a karking thing about the deep aches, and from what Rex told me you had a rough few days.”

Obi Wan rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin in his hand. “You spoke to Rex? How is he?”

They had dropped Rex, Anakin, and Ahsoka off at their ship before Obi Wan was brought back to Coruscant to where the _Negotiator_ was still docked.

“He’s doing okay. From what he said, you got the worst of it. He said they caught you early on when you tried to free the Governor, tortured you, put you on display in an arena.”

Obi Wan could hear Cody’s anger. The muscle in his jaw was jumping as he portioned out the tea and poured them two cups. Obi Wan noted that it was the kind he had bought, the kind with cocoa and chili. He brought the cups over and set them in front of Obi Wan, pulling up a chair nearby and falling into it.

They sipped their tea in silence and just the familiarity of the two of them together, in these quarters, drinking tea was enough to leach some of the tension out of the air.

When Obi Wan had nearly finished his drink he stared into the depths of the mug, idly watching the particles and leaves that had managed to make it through the filter. He was wearing a heavy brown robe over borrowed tunics and he could feel the bandages tugging at his back and around his neck.

“Cody?”

“Hmm.”

“Can you help me change my bacta patches? Patch said I have to before I lay down.”

Cody set down his mug. “Wouldn’t you rather a medic do it?”

“Then I would have to go all the way to the Halls of Healing and I…” he sighed deeply. His bed was calling to him from the next room. “I just want to sleep.”

He watched Cody fiddle with the handle of his mug.

“...and you were such a good _ baar’ur _ last time.”

His Commander huffed a laugh before shaking his head fondly and standing from his chair. He went to fetch the medkit from the refresher and returned to the table.

“Of course, _ner jetii._ ”

Obi Wan blushed even though Cody’s expression was impossibly soft.

His Commander sat opposite him and reached out questioningly for Obi Wan. He removed the heavy robe and offered his arms to Cody, nimble fingers finding the catches in his bracers, handling them reverently as they were placed on the table. Obi Wan removed his tabards and tunics, stripping down until he was left in just his pants and boots. The plastic lining of the large bandages on his back crinkled as he shifted in the chair until he was facing away from Cody.

He should have felt vulnerable, exposed and still in a fair amount of pain, but having Cody at his back was natural and comforting.

His Commander must have removed his gloves because Obi Wan felt the brush of fingertips over his bare skin, seeking the edges of the bandage. Cold air rushed across his back when it was pulled away and he could feel Cody tense behind him.

Obi Wan reached a hand back, brushing over Cody’s forearm. “I’m okay, the bacta took care of the worst of it.”

He knew that his broken skin had healed, but according to Patch there was still a large amount of bruising and a few red welts from the deepest electrowhip lashes. It was still sore, but he shouldn’t be in any more danger if he kept off missions for about a week.

The bacta was cold as Cody dabbed it over the marks on his back, putting as little pressure on Obi Wan’s skin as he could. He heard the rustling of a new bandage when Cody stretched it over the still-healing wounds. The contact seeped into his skin and soothed the bone-deep ache more than the bacta ever could. Cody’s hands lingered on his shoulders for a moment, then he lifted them away and Obi Wan held the disappointed noise in the back of his throat before it had a chance to escape.

“Can you sit on the table? I’ll be able to see the ones around your neck better.”

Obi Wan complied, pushing one of the mugs out of the way. He had a perfect view of Cody’s worried face as he stepped into his line of sight, reaching out and carefully peeling away the bandage, exposing the burns from the shock collar. Obi Wan had seen the same on Rex when they were first treated, and they looked innocuous and orderly. A series of little round scars that went all the way around his neck from where the electrodes were pressed against his skin.

Obi Wan stared at Cody while he worried his lip, applying the bacta with a touch so gentle he could barely feel it. He was lit by the soft glow of the setting sun through the tiny window and the scattered curls in his hair were caught in the blaze. The planes of his face were half light and shadow and there was the faintest hint of stubble where he hadn’t had time to shave. A small scar cut the edge of Cody’s lip and another disappeared into the hair at his temple.

Cody was beautiful.

Even though Obi Wan never had the nerve to tell him, even after everything, after all of the death and the grief, he was still so kind. With his brothers, with Obi Wan. He had been pushed into a life of war and death and violence, and Obi Wan wanted more than anything to let Cody walk away from it all. Let him build his own life somewhere war couldn’t touch. He deserved that and so much more.

If Cody noticed Obi Wan staring, he didn’t mention it. He smoothed a new bandage over the burns and taped down the ends, all the while Obi Wan fought the urge to lean into his touch.

“Does that feel alright?”

Obi Wan nodded, stretching his arms tentatively and rolling his neck a little, feeling the bandages tug but savoring the way the tense ache beneath his skin had faded.

“Yes. Thank you, Cody.”

He looked up and his Commander was right there, wiping the bacta off his fingers with a towel. He was close enough to touch.

Instead, Obi Wan tipped forward until his forehead rested on Cody’s chestplate and let himself give in to the exhaustion he had been carrying around since the very first electrowhip strike.

“How come the only time you ever see me shirtless is when I’m injured?”

There was a chuckle from somewhere above him and he felt fingers skating over a scar near the bottom of his ribs. Obi Wan remembered exploding fuel tanks, waking up in Cody’s arms for the first time.

“Maybe you should start walking around the ship without a shirt, then. Break the pattern.”

Obi Wan laughed and brought a finger up to trace one of the golden stripes on Cody’s armor.

“I always liked this design. It’s like rays of sunshine.”

His Commander raised a hand to the back of Obi Wan’s neck, high up with fingers threaded into his hair so he wouldn’t put any pressure on the bandages.

“That’s why I painted it. Three months on Kamino during the rainy season without my General to brighten my day, I was missing the sun. And you.”

Obi Wan wanted to break under the weight of Cody’s devotion.

He was _so_ tired. The war was tearing pieces of him away, bit by bit, until he was left clinging to fraying threads.

Obi Wan reached out and dug his fingers into the gaps in Cody’s armor, pressing into the warmth of his body beneath the blacks. Cody’s hand tightened in his hair and he took a step closer, enough to rest his chin on the top of Obi Wan’s head.

“What do you want to do after the war?”

Cody’s voice was soft but casual, like he was discussing what food they were serving in the mess hall. Obi Wan knew that Cody tried his best to see light at the end of so much death, just like he did.

Images flashed through his mind. Just this. Just here. The two of them sharing tea and watching the people they love get the chance to grow old.

“I don’t know, Cody.”

A hand was tracing idle patterns on Obi Wan’s shoulder and the feeling was slowly lulling him into a comfortable doze. “We can figure it out together, if you’d like.”

Cody’s fingers stilled but Obi Wan kept speaking. “I asked you once, years ago, if you would choose to stay. Even after all this grief and loss… _ tion ven’gaanade?” _

Obi Wan’s muddled brain expected to hear some fond hope of a life away from the war, but instead he listened to Cody's murmured reply.

 _ "Cuyolir juaan gar," _ he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

They stayed like that, in his tiny apartment, in the fading light of the sun, and Obi Wan allowed himself to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck Pong Krell.
> 
>  _Dar'jetii_ : Sith (lit. "no-longer jedi")  
>  _mirshmure'cya_ : Keldabe kiss (lit. "brain kiss")  
>  _baar'ur_ : medic  
>  _tion ven'gaanade?_ : what would you choose?  
>  _Cuyolir juaan gar_ : To stay beside you.
> 
> I chose the name Patch because I liked it and it turns out there is medic named Patch from one of the choose-your-own-adventure books. (Let's say for the sake of this fic that he eventually ended up with the 104th.) Fisher is my 104th cook.
> 
> UPDATE: The lovely LeeLeebee has made art for this chapter!!! ([1](https://leeleebee.tumblr.com/post/635996000795885568/ok-so-codywan-so-many-scenes-i-want-to-draw#notes)) ([2](https://leeleebee.tumblr.com/post/636058582950068224/another-one-from-gershwyndl-s-ao3-fic-i-am))


	10. Cody mourns for his General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very fun to write, and very emotional.
> 
> Lots of love to all of my readers and I hope you stay healthy and safe!
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

Once Cody understood the core of his feelings toward Obi Wan, he couldn’t help but notice things. He was trained to observe, after all, but once he started, a pattern emerged that sent hope searing against his ribs.

On Mimban, Cody knew that if he had asked Obi Wan would have put him down in a heartbeat even with his broken leg. Instead he held Cody close and carried him to safety, assuring him quietly that he would get the rest of their men. _Their_ men. The men they took care of together. Cody knew he would make sure everyone got back to the ship safely, and go back for the injured as well, putting all his focus into keeping them safe.

After the Citadel, Obi Wan had chosen to stay with Cody and his brothers. He acknowledged their grief and sat with them until he fell asleep tucked against Cody’s side.

When the 212th painted their new armor, Waxer and Boil had taken the opportunity to show the General exactly what Cody’s helmet was meant to represent and Cody had wanted to lock them both in the medbay and force Helix to make them scrub bedpans.

But Obi Wan had not protested it. In fact, he seemed pleased.

Then came Umbara, and Cody used all of his restraint to resist kicking Krell’s body off the nearest cliff until he realized that he could nearly taste the strength of Obi Wan’s anger on the air.

It had startled him.

Obi Wan tried so hard to keep himself in check, and even though Cody knew him well enough to see the occasional flicker of anger, never had he seen him that furious. Cody’s own rage was certainly palpable to the _jetii_ , and probably feeding into the problem, but then he looked over and saw the last of their platoon limp back to the shuttles and his thoughts were abruptly derailed.

After they landed on the _Negotiator,_ Obi Wan’s stony expression told Cody that he would deal with Krell’s deception himself, so he herded his brothers toward the barracks and tried to calm his own trembling hands.

“Refreshers first, then into your sleepclothes.”

He didn’t raise his voice. They were huddled close enough to hear him clearly. Some of them began to move right away, but Cody took a step towards Bara, keeping his hands open and his movements clear, gently easing the blaster out of his hands where he had been gripping it since they left the battlefield. He waited until they were all out of sight before pulling Cale aside in the hall and requesting some supplies be brought to Barrack One.

Cody went down to the mess hall and spoke to Cookie in hushed tones. He returned to the barracks with a dozen cups, a pot of tea, and an unmarked bottle of something that Cody wasn’t going to question the origin of.

Cale and Reed had filled the ground between bunks with spare blankets and bedrolls and Cody set the tray of drinks aside as the first few troopers came stumbling back in, their hair damp and sleepclothes twisted from where they had not had the presence of mind to straighten them.

Wooley had stopped shaking but Boil’s stare was still unnervingly blank.

Seeing him here in the barracks, alone, made the gaps in their ranks even more tangible.

Cody corralled everyone onto the bedrolls and blankets and noted they each made sure they were close enough to be touching a brother; a hand, a knee, a shoulder, a point of contact that ensured they could still feel a living body.

A few of them shakily reached out for a cup of tea; ever since Cookie had started stocking it in the mess hall for Obi Wan the men had taken a liking to it, but now it served to bring warmth back into their numb fingers. Some of them took the bottle instead, pouring it into their empty cups and seeking a deeper kind of warmth. Boil took a cup of tea out of habit, but he sat staring into it without acknowledging anyone else.

Cody arranged bedrolls, refilled cups, and did as much as he could to ease them out of their shock, but the more he watched the more they simply succumbed to exhaustion, curled into tense knots in a large pile of limbs. There was not much Cody could do to wipe away the memory of what they had endured.

His anger returned as Wooley made a wounded noise in his sleep and Bara’s hands clenched into fists as he shook in the throes of a nightmare. Before long only Cody and Boil were left awake.

“Would you like more tea?” He kept his voice as steady as he could; Boil had drunk about half of his cup, but the movements were stiff and mechanical. Suddenly his head jerked up and he looked at Cody wildly.

Boil’s hands started to shake and Cody gently took the cup from him before he could drop it.

_ "Mhi ru kyr’amu vode, Kote." _

_ "Elek." _ Cody knew pretending it hadn’t happened would make things worse. _ "A’bic ne’cuyi gar chak." _

But Boil’s shaking devolved into sobs and Cody carefully inched closer, reaching out to lay Boil on his side closer to the pile of troopers. Once he was curled up on the bedrolls Cody ran a hand over his back, wishing more than anything he could simply take the pain away.

It took a long time for Boil’s tears to taper off into rattling breaths and then into light snores when he finally fell asleep.

Cody stayed for a little while longer before gingerly climbing to his feet and changing into his own sleepclothes. He noted the late hour and the feeling in the back of his mind that he knew was Obi Wan, just on the edges of his perception. He followed the feeling of anger humming in the back of his skull down into one of the training rooms near the hangar bay.

Obi Wan was there, slashing his lightsaber through the air with particularly vicious precision in the middle of the empty room. Cody watched him for a moment and then walked over and sat on one of the benches.

He wasn’t surprised that his General had lost track of time, especially with the way his knuckles shone white where his fingers were clenched around his lightsaber. What Cody didn’t expect was for Obi Wan to offer him one of the training staffs and lead him onto the mat for a spar.

The tension still winding his insides into knots relished the challenge, but the place where every rule and regulation was burned into his brain held him back from striking his General. Obi Wan must've seen his hesitation because he pushed Cody back repeatedly, forcing him to rely on muscle memory to keep up.

Once Cody pushed himself to treat it like any other spar, all his nervous energy spilled out and he struck, hard, knowing deep in his bones that Obi Wan would be able to match him, blow for blow.

It was exactly what he had warned Cody about after the attack on Kamino, but he couldn’t help but berate himself for every little thing he _could_ _have_ done. It was only Obi Wan’s claim that he should have seen it coming that brought him back to the present.

It wasn’t Obi Wan’s fault. It was never his fault.

Obi Wan believed in Cody and his brothers. He believed in people more than Cody ever could. He had hope.

It wasn’t his fault that one _jetii_ had chosen to throw his lot in with Dooku or that he hadn’t been able to stop Krell when they were fighting their own battle a dozen klicks away. But Cody’s thoughts were interrupted when he found himself pinned to the mat with his General’s weight warm above him. He threw his head forward instinctively and was grateful when Obi Wan pulled back quick enough to prevent Cody from breaking his nose.

But then he leaned in again and Cody wanted more than anything to close the gap and kiss his General until neither of them had to think of death or the war or anyone else anymore. Instead he pressed their foreheads together, holding his breath when Obi Wan pressed back with equal fervor. The hope that had been smoldering away deep in his chest flared, bright and burning.

The affection in his eyes must have been clear when Obi Wan pulled away. He blinked, looking down at Cody for a moment before he shifted his weight and rolled onto the floor.

The humming in the back of his mind no longer burned with anger but instead with a tension that made Cody fear more contact would generate literal sparks. Even so, he reached out tentatively, fingers brushing the back of Obi Wan’s hand, needing to know they were both okay.

And Obi Wan reached back.

The longer the war went on the more Cody noticed Obi Wan throwing himself into plans despite the growing risk, and he couldn’t help but sympathize. He didn’t want his General to get hurt, but if Cody could undertake one extremely dangerous mission that gave them the chance to end the war, he knew he would take it. No matter what.

The anxious feeling increased every day Obi Wan was on Zygerria and Cody didn’t hear from him. He hadn’t wanted Obi Wan to go, of course. Even if he was in better condition, Zygerria was one of the cruelest planets Cody knew of. When he saw the finger-shaped bruises covering his General’s throat and the careful way he moved, it took all of his faith in Obi Wan’s abilities not to demand he stay behind and heal.

He pulled Rex aside before they left, and before he could even open his mouth his brother held up a hand to stop him.

“I know, I know, keep an eye on your _jetii_.” Rex raised an eyebrow. “How come you never worry about my _jetiise_?”

“I do worry about them, _Rex’ika_ , but I don’t think there’s anything in this galaxy that can keep those two from running headfirst into danger.”

Rex snorted. “You do remember who trained them, right?”

Cody allowed a fond smile for Obi Wan and his little Jedi family, but then he heard the hangar door open and knew that it was time for them to go.

_ "Gedet'ye." _

Rex smiled grudgingly and nodded, moving away towards Skywalker and Tano as Cody turned to speak with Obi Wan. He knew here was nothing he could say that Obi Wan hadn’t already considered, but asking him to stay safe could not be emphasized enough.

Once they had flown off in their stolen shuttle Cody kept himself busy resupplying the _Negotiator_ and keeping an eye on the comms for any updates. It wasn’t for another couple of days that he got the news that they were on their way back. Rex called while Cody was going over paperwork in his quarters and he almost knocked the holocomm off his desk in his haste answer.

His eagerness was punctured when he saw the bandages around his brother’s neck and recognized his surroundings as the medbay on the _Courageous._

“I didn’t do a great job protecting your _jetii_.” Rex tried to laugh and Cody saw him wince.

“What about you?” Cody looked at the shadows under his eyes and the bruising on his jaw and bit his tongue against a wave of concern. Rex caught his expression, though, and his gaze flicked over to somewhere out of view.

“I’ll heal. General Kenobi got it worse; Patch has him in bacta now. He tried to rescue the governor first and got captured. They used electrowhips on him,” Rex shuddered and he raised a hand to the bandage around his neck. “But they took me and him to one of their mining prisons and fitted us with shock collars. Skywalker and Tano eventually got us out but… it wasn’t pretty.”

Cody asked his brother a few more questions to confirm that he was alright, but they had to break off the call when Patch ordered Rex to get some rest.

The next day was tense as Cody waited for the 104th to return to Coruscant, and he made sure that he was on the landing platform when they finally arrived. Obi Wan looked tired and bruised and he moved carefully. Cody knew his concern must have been palpable because Obi Wan spoke to him reassuringly as soon as he got close.

Once they were through the door to Obi Wan’s quarters Cody made a beeline for the kettle in the little kitchen, knowing that making tea would calm them both but struggling with his worry as he watched Obi Wan avoid leaning against the back of his chair. Cody reached for a familiar tea tin and brought their cups out to the table.

He took in Obi Wan’s stiffness while they drank. His General was hurt, yes, but he was alive and he was here and they had a moment of peace before they would be sent out again.

Cody agreed to help Obi Wan change his bandages if only so he could keep an eye on his healing—not because it gave him an excuse to touch his General. Cody kept the pressure as light as possible, even as he wanted to trace every freckle with his fingertips and count every scar.

Cody let his hands linger more than he should’ve on Obi Wan’s skin, wanting to soothe all the hurts he couldn’t see. His General climbed onto the table, and seeing the scars left by the shock collar momentarily swept away Cody’s forced calm.

He applied the bacta with shaking fingers and pushed down the part of him that wanted to go back to Kadavo and ensure the zygerrians would be unable to do such things to anyone anymore.

As he smoothed a new bandage over the burns he became aware of how close they were standing, how the sun was glowing around their little bubble of warmth, how the expression on Obi Wan’s face was so achingly soft Cody wanted to melt.

Just when he was wondering if he ought to move away, his General’s head tipped forward to rest against his chestplate with a soft _thunk_.

Cody wished suddenly that he was in his dress greys or even his blacks so he could feel the pressure against his skin. He listened to Obi Wan joke and he laughed, tracing a scar on his ribs absently. His skin was warm beneath Cody’s fingers and he laid a hand on the back of his General’s head to pull him closer.

When Obi Wan asked about his armor, Cody decided not to ignore the feeling bubbling up between them.

_…I was missing the sun. And you._

He held very still as Obi Wan’s fingers found the spots between Cody’s armor where his blacks were exposed and dug himself into the cracks. Cody pulled Obi Wan as close as he dared and reveled in the feeling of his General’s red-gold hair between his fingers.

Then Obi Wan gave him another choice, another chance to step away if he wanted to, even after proclaiming that they could share their lives together; as though the offer was as casual as sharing a cup of tea.

As if Cody didn’t imagine that future like a glowing sun on the horizon.

_ "Tion ven’gaanade?" _

Cody’s response was a confession in a few short words, and when Obi Wan melted into him instead of pulling away, Cody was sure the emotion filling his chest was bright enough to rival a star.

________________________

While they were on Coruscant, Cody commed one of his brothers to meet him out for a drink at 79s. Bly was surprised but he agreed.

Cody found himself in the same booth where he had inadvertently poured his heart out to Rex and he couldn’t help but feel the irony. His little brother had known his own mind far before Cody did, and now he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Bly slid into the booth next to him with his hand around a glass of something topped with an inch of foam. His tattoos caught the light as he flicked his gaze around before settling on Cody curiously.

“You’re never the one to suggest going out.”

“That is patently untrue,” he protested, remembering one of the first times he’d had a few days on leave, but his objection didn’t have as much strength as he would’ve liked. He took a sip of his drink and gestured to a couple of yellow-splashed troopers near the bar.

“How’s the 327th?”

Bly rolled his eyes at the blatant attempt to divert his curiousity, but he happily told Cody about what they’d been up to in the months they were away on missions. Cody told him about Mimban and they commiserated for a while about the arduous process of getting mud out of their blacks. Bly mentioned his General enough that Cody smiled over his glass. He had heard about General Secura before, usually good things, but he felt that seeing her through Bly’s eyes was something else entirely.

It made Cody think of Obi Wan.

Bly looked at his smile and took it to be teasing, digging his knuckles hard into Cody’s shoulder in retaliation, but then he scrutinized Cody closer. His smile turned into something surprised and his gaze dropped to his drink. He swirled what was left gently against the walls of the glass.

“But this isn’t about my General.”

His tone didn’t leave room for argument. He had seen something in Cody’s expression that made him sure of his observation.

Cody stayed quiet for a few minutes and Bly did not interrupt him. When they finished their drinks, they didn’t order more. Instead they watched the troopers milling around the bar—some in their armor and thus identifiable by their paint, some in ambiguous dress greys.

At last Cody pushed his empty glass away and looked at his brother. He took a deep, steadying breath and held it for a moment before speaking.

“I love him, Bly.”

The music kept playing over the speakers and the spotlight still roved over the _vode_ on the dancefloor. The planet didn’t stop turning because he admitted it out loud.

Bly didn’t laugh. Cody knew the words were not what he expected to hear by the way his eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t react as if Cody was playing some kind of elaborate practical joke, and for that he was grateful.

What we didn’t tell Bly was that he called his General by his first name, or that the feel of his touch lingered on Cody’s skin long after he was gone, or how he had allowed himself to be vulnerable so many times when it was only the two of them. He had his hopes, the ones that he tucked next to his heart and never let see the light of day, but he didn’t _know_. Because _not knowing_ kept them both safe.

Bly downed the last of his drink and tapped his empty glass against Cody’s. The noise rang in his ears even above the din of the bar as he felt the weight of all the things Bly left unsaid. Eventually his brother broke the heavy silence.

“It’s a very specific kind of pain,” he said. “One the _kaminiise_ never taught us to endure.”

There was a reason Cody had sought Bly out. He was one of the only people that would understand his position. There was no suggestion of a transfer, no admonition to keep his feelings under lock and key, no warning Bly could give him that hadn’t already run through Cody’s mind over and over while he slept.

Bly watched the troopers drift in and out of the bar for a moment before turning to Cody.

_ "Ni dinui gar jate'kara." _

He knew that the sentiment was not given lightly, and that he truly wanted them both to walk away from this war with the freedom to choose how to live their lives.

_ “Bal ni gar.” _

The music played on as they sat in their little booth. Each aching for a future that didn’t slip through their fingers like smoke in the light of day.

________________________

Cody woke the next morning to orders telling him to take the 212th and the _Negotiator_ into the Outer Rim—Obi Wan would be staying behind. It wasn’t uncommon but Cody wanted to protest. He didn’t see Obi Wan at all while they packed to leave, and one of the Admirals told him that his General would meet them later while they were shuffled off to the ship.

It rankled him, but he did as he was ordered. They were sent to mount an incursion against a droid factory on Hypori and Cody couldn’t help but wonder if they were being shipped out to the furthest point from Coruscant out of spite. They set up camp in the wreckage of an old venator-class ship and sent out waves of scouts to check on how well the droid factory was entrenched in the rocky plains. It reminded him of Geonosis.

He woke up on the third day in his cabin on the _Negotiator_. He drank his caf alone at a table in the mess hall, throwing a quick nod at Cookie before he left. He made his way down into the hangar bay to oversee the shipment of AT-RTs down to the surface. Boil was there directing the shuttles, and after Cody watched a few of them glide up and out of the hangar his comm chimed with an incoming message. It wasn’t an internal GAR communication but a Republic news broadcast, which was rare but not unheard of. He stepped aside and opened the message.

_Jedi General Dead. General Obi Wan Kenobi of the 212 th Legion was shot and killed last night on Coruscant. Witnesses say the Jedi was on a nearby rooftop when a sniper opened fire and Kenobi fell several feet into the alley below. Intelligence suspects noted bounty hunter Rako Hardeen may be to blame. The Jedi released a brief statement that said they will be holding a funeral for Kenobi tonight on Coruscant. The Republic will mourn the loss of…_

But the words had stopped making sense in Cody’s head.

No. No that wasn’t right. Obi Wan was on leave, recovering. He was on Coruscant, not in some firefight in the Mid Rim.

He thought about how he had sat alone with his caf that morning.

He thought about drinking his caf alone every day until he was dead in the dust on some backwater world because he couldn’t imagine doing it until the war ended—the war couldn’t end when Obi Wan had told him they would figure out their lives _together._

Cody was vaguely aware of the sound of a shuttle taking off somewhere nearby. His fingers were trembling as he tried to close the message on his comm, but it remained stubbornly projected above his wrist.

He jabbed at the button again, needing to get rid of the accusing words as they seared themselves against the inside of his eyelids.

_Jedi General Dead…_

_Obi Wan Kenobi… shot and killed_

_Kenobi fell several feet into the alley below…_

Someone was calling his name. His feet felt numb.

The funeral… they were having the funeral _that_ night and there would be no way for Cody to be there. Rage cut through the fog and he wanted to scream at whoever had given them this assignment.

Someone walked up to him and their shadow fell over the words still floating over his comm.

“—Cody!”

Boil was standing a few feet away and eyeing him like he would a live explosive, the hand not holding his helmet clearly visible, palm up. Cody couldn’t speak and his brother caught sight of the holo-message. His eyes went wide and they darted between Cody’s face and the projection.

Abruptly he found the precision to turn off the message and clench his fists so tightly there were sure to be fingertip-shaped bruises in his palms.

“Boil, which is the next shuttle down to the surface?” His words were clipped and curt despite having to work their way around the knot in his throat. Boil shook his head and tightened his grip on his helmet.

“Cody, I don’t think—”

But Cody saw one of the pilots heading for a nearby shuttle and turned away from Boil to follow him. He shoved his helmet roughly over his head and boarded the ship, gruffly acknowledging the men already aboard. He wouldn’t look at Boil who was speaking rapidly into his comm nearby, then the shuttle door closed and he didn’t have to.

Cody threw himself into the attack once he learned that their scouts had reported in. He led the assault on the main entrance to the factory while a stealth team snuck into the main reactor. He wasn’t in the mood to carefully pick his way around cameras, and the metallic clanking of the battle droids overwhelmed the numbness that had taken root in his fingers and the back of his head.

At first he kept track of the number of droids he destroyed with vindictive pleasure, but after a while he lost count, consumed by the repetitive motion of aiming, firing, and, when his gun jammed, swinging it wildly to knock the heads off the battle droids in showers of sparking wires. He stopped only briefly when an explosion ripped through the rear of the factory and the droids began to retreat back into the shelter of the building.

Any straggling droids were brutally dispatched and Cody felt the tension hanging in the air. The news must have made its way through the men.

He didn’t look at anyone while they made their way back to the camp. He asked Trapper if there was a spare tent he could use and it was handed over without question. The cot was hard and the wind cut through every gap in the canvas, but Cody didn’t feel it. A yawning ache had opened beneath his ribs where there used to be warmth and it left him shivering more than any breeze.

The emptiness ate at Cody as he stared at the roof of the tent, unseeing.

He didn’t sleep that night and in the morning he downed his caf as quickly as he could. It burned the back of his throat as he swallowed but he didn’t care enough to stop.

He led the next assault to rout out the remaining droids and only remembered bits and pieces after he returned to camp. His shoulder was stiff and one of his hips itched strangely but he stumbled into his tent in the same fog that had clouded his thoughts for over a day.

The next morning went the same as the last, only this time he was aware of whispers breaking out around him that made his skin feel like it was too tight over his bones. His instructions for the last assault were gruffer than he meant to be, but the men tore through the ranks of the last B-1s with a ferocity that gave Cody grim satisfaction. The droids were piles of scrap at the end of the day, and he went back to the camp to find Stitch waiting for him.

“I have orders from Helix to bring you back to the ship, sir.” The junior medic eyed him warily but stood their ground.

“I’ll go back when this campaign is finished.” Cody busied himself with the holotable.

“Sir, the factory and the droids have been destroyed and it’s time to begin packing up the camp.”

“I can stay to help.”

Stitch’s eyes looked him up and down and they tightened their grip on the datapad.

“Helix has authorized me to hypo you if you refused to come back to the ship.”

Cody disliked being sedated and Helix knew it, but the more he thought about it the more he wondered if the medic could give him something to help him sleep. He didn’t look at Stitch as he made his way toward one of the gunships that was waiting nearby. As they flew back to the _Negotiator_ the swaying motion of the ship rattled like the _thing_ that had come loose in his chest. The strap he used to hold himself in place while they flew cut into his fingers and he relished the fleeting spark of pain.

After landing in the hangar, he shuffled off to the medbay, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. He walked through the door to see Helix pushing a cart toward a wounded trooper—when he caught sight of Cody he gestured to an empty cot near the door.

“That one’s for you.”

Cody stepped closer and shook his head. “I only need something to help me sleep.”

Helix straightened up and put the hypospray he was holding back on the cart.

“That would be useful, but not yet. Get on the cot.”

“Helix,” Cody growled, “I’m fine.”

The medic looked him over and pursed his lips. “How’s your hip?”

Cody looked down at his armor. There were gouges in the plastoid where he had gotten too near an exploding thermal detonator and the paint was scraped away.

“Itches a little bit.”

Helix gestured with a scalpel. “Get on the cot.”

Cody sat heavily, knowing Helix likely wouldn’t speak to him if he did not, and abruptly realized it was the first time he had sat down in two days. Despite the urge to collapse for just a moment, his fingers gripped the edge of the cot hard as he watched Helix move around the medbay. Eventually he came up to Cody and took his shoulder in hand, rotating it until he hissed in pain when the joint throbbed.

Helix made a noise then leaned down to inspect Cody’s hip. He stood back up and glared at him.

“How long have you been walking around with shrapnel scraping away at your muscle?”

Cody blinked and looked down at the space between the armor at his waist and his leg, it wasn’t a large gap but his blacks were exposed there nonetheless.

“…I couldn’t feel it.”

Helix glared at him while Cody grudgingly removed his armor and his blacks and laid on the bed. The medic pulled the cart closer and wiped away flecks of dried blood from Cody’s hip, plucking bits of metal from his skin. They weren’t that deep, but he was lucky they hadn’t done any lasting damage. Helix swabbed the area and put on a fresh bacta patch that he was instructed not to remove for at least a day.

After that, he had Cody put his blacks and the bottom portion of his armor back on. He reached over to pull a new hypospray from the medcart and inject it into Cody’s neck while he was distracted. That earned him a scowl but Helix put the hypo away and returned with a sling. Cody’s arm was quickly strapped into it, his forearm snug against his chest.

Helix looked him directly in the eye.

“Keep your weight off that shoulder. Don’t sleep on it tonight. The hypo I gave you should help with any infection from the shrapnel and probably put you to sleep in about three hours.”

Helix finished with the straps and stopped, his hands falling still. He let go and leaned back against the empty cot next to Cody’s. The weight of his stare made Cody want to curl into a ball, but he remained still and silent.

“ _Kote,_ it’s not your fault.”

Cody flinched. A lump was building in his throat and the emotions he had been ignoring for days swelled like a wave.

_ “Ne’jor meg bic aala sa.” _

Helix shook his head. “ _ Gar ru’cabuo kaysh anay tuur ru’cuyi tome, ne’digu gar ru’cuyi dul iral’kar dar’tome. _

_ "Kaysh ven ne’vore gar kar’aray.” _

Cody clenched his unoccupied hand into a fist and breathed against the ache clawing at his throat. He kept his gaze fixed in his lap as Helix stood, clasping Cody’s forearm briefly before he turned away, pushing the medcart over to one of the other occupied beds.

Cody stood, shifting his weight against the lingering pain in his hip, it stung but not too badly now that the bacta was working away at the wound. He piled the remaining pieces of his armor into one of the cabinets they used for personal effects and left the medbay, making his way up to the officer’s quarters.

He stopped in front of his General’s door.

The room that Obi Wan had left and would never walk back into.

The door slid open and he took a tentative step inside. With his arm bound against his chest Cody could feel his heartbeat hammering under his fingers as he looked at the brown robe thrown over the desk chair.

A small glass ornament glittered in the viewport window and he remembered Wooley hesitantly presenting it to Obi Wan a few months before. Obi Wan had stared at it for so long Wooley had gotten worried. When the General eventually spoke, it was soft enough that they struggled to hear.

_ "Par ni?" _

Wooley had been surprised but he nodded. _ "’Lek.” _

“Thank you, Wooley,” he said, and the trooper gave him a toothy grin as Obi Wan smiled softly down at the little ornament.

Cody tore his eyes away and moved closer to the desk. The lump in his throat grew as he spotted the tin sitting next to the lamp. It was the first tin of tea that he had given Obi Wan, just before Christophsis—the tea itself was gone but the tin was full of little things from a handful the planets they’d been to; a dried flower from the park on Chandrilla, a small bit of green crystal from Christophsis, the iridescent plume of a snowfeather bird from Orto Plutonia.

This wasn’t—it wasn’t right. It shouldn’t look like Obi Wan could walk through the door at any minute and sit in his desk chair to go over reports.

He caught the smell of tea leaves and a special kind of soap Cody was sure Obi Wan used for his beard and suddenly his thoughts were too much. Cody sat hard on the edge of the bed and brought a hand up to muffle the sob that crawled its way out of his throat.

Every rattling breath burned his lungs and hot tears dripped their way down his chin to slide across his armored lap. They carved clear paths through the dust on the plastoid.

He curled into himself and wept. Obi Wan was _gone_. Every morning and meeting and troop movement to be conducted without Obi Wan by his side. He would push forward for his brothers, for the Republic and the war, but he could not delude himself into believing every step would not be weighted with grief.

Cody stopped only when the tears had dried and his throat was raw and choking. The room was filled with the soft noise from the planted tank in the corner as the water shifted. Cody stared at it while his vision cleared. He watched the tendrils of an anemone drift slowly in the water and felt a sense of calm settle over him for the first time in three days, like whatever had shattered in his chest had stopped cutting into his ribs every time he moved.

The weight of the past few days suddenly crashed over him and it felt as though he were holding the entire ship in orbit through sheer force of will.

The aching numbness threatened to overwhelm him and he stood from the bed, putting all his effort into each step forward as he forced his feet to take him to the door. He stopped there, looking back at the tin, the ornament, the robe. Each carefully within arm’s reach of a man who not return.

He turned away abruptly and walked down the hall to his own quarters. Cody fell onto the bed and curled up facing the wall so that he wouldn’t have to think about how his room was a mirror image of Obi Wan’s. He stared into the featureless darkness for a long time before finally falling asleep.

When he finally woke it was to the news that he had slept for two days straight.

There was an alert on his comm, an urgent update from the GAR. It took more force of will than it should have to press the button to open the message, but as soon as he did, he froze.

_212 th Attack Battalion: Disregard the recent announcement regarding the death of General Kenobi. The news was part of a recently-concluded undercover mission to prevent the abduction of the Supreme Chancellor, from which he will be returning shortly. Expect a commencement of usual operations upon his return._

The void in Cody’s chest lurched, the emptiness replaced with a churning storm that filled his ears with a noise like roaring wind.

He couldn’t believe the message, not yet, not when he had spent the past week semi-catatonic in rage and grief. But the immediate, bone-deep relief he felt was threaded with a bitterness. If it was true, Obi Wan had allowed him to believe that he was dead.

Cody thought about the recent exhaustion that had taken over them both. A Separatist abduction of the Supreme Chancellor could have potentially brought a swift end to the war, and not in their favor. If Obi Wan’s deception was the price of preventing that fate and protecting the Republic…

Cody couldn’t lie to himself. He would have done the same in a heartbeat.

He would have given anything at a chance to prevent a Separatist victory, it would be hypocritical to hold it against Obi Wan for wanting the same. Cody’s anger was slippery and hard to hold onto. It faded and mingled with the bright, burning hope that spread to his numb fingers.

Cody closed the message and snapped to attention. Obi Wan was coming back. Coming back to the 212th. To Him.

A few days later, Cody, Boil, and a handful of troopers were sent down the hangar bay to greet Obi Wan. The line of troopers standing eagerly at attention reminded him of the first time he had stood in that same hangar bay awaiting the arrival of his new General. He hadn’t known what to expect then, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect now.

But then a shuttle landed and he saw the flash of familiar red-gold hair and the air rushed back into his lungs. Warmth sparked inside his chest and then roared through him as he caught his General’s eyes. Obi Wan didn’t break eye contact the entire time he approached, getting closer and closer as Cody’s heart thudded against his ribs.

Obi Wan’s hair was shorter and his beard barely longer than stubble. Cody could almost see a dimple in his chin and smile lines around his mouth; his grey-blue eyes were boring into Cody’s with such determination that he was overwhelmed. Suddenly he realized Obi Wan was right in front of him and he could barely force a greeting out of his mouth.

“General Kenobi, sir.”

Obi Wan’s lips twitched but his gaze remained locked on Cody. “Commander.”

Cody stood rooted to the spot as Boil and Trapper and the other troopers came up to greet the General with wide, relieved smiles. He turned away to address them and Cody took a deep breath once Obi Wan broke eye contact.

Obi Wan was here and he was just within arm’s reach.

He didn’t move until his General turned back around. Cody’s deep breaths threatened to suffocate him.

“General, can you please come with me?” His voice was hoarse but Obi Wan nodded, his blue eyes looking over Cody intently.

He felt Obi Wan following just behind him as they walked down a side corridor and into a darkened conference room. Once inside, Cody set his helmet on the table, listening for the sound of the door. As soon as it closed he reached out and tugged on the fabric of Obi Wan’s tunics, pulling him urgently close and wrapping his arms around the jedi.

Obi Wan went still as Cody pressed his shaking fingertips into his General’s back and buried his face in the crook of his neck. He breathed in the smell of tea leaves and soap and newly-washed fabric.

“Obi Wan.”

He must have heard the words, quiet as they were, because Cody felt arms fold around his waist and tighten until his ribs ached. Obi Wan’s breath was hot near his ear as he wrapped himself around Cody, his stubbly beard scraping over his jaw.

They were both trembling slightly and Cody could feel the staticky, elated hum in his body jump between them. Obi Wan was real. He was here and they clung together like men adrift in a storm. The deep ache of his deception was momentarily drowned in the rush of joy that was the feel of his General’s body heat beneath his palms.

But the trembling increased and the well of grief that had sunk itself deep in his heart after the news of Obi Wan’s death grew too loud to ignore. His eyes stung and Obi Wan’s arms gripped his waist like he was afraid Cody might shake apart.

Obi Wan twisted just far enough away to look at him, and when he saw the unshed tears he leaned in to nudge their foreheads tentatively together.

“Cody, I swear—”

But Cody cut him off, ignoring the part of him that said he’d gone too far already. He brought a hand up to the back of Obi Wan’s neck, trying to convey just how much seeing him whole and alive had meant. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to see the sadness in Obi Wan’s expression. Cody’s breath caught in his throat at the feel of an open palm on the back of his neck and his General’s thumb making little soothing swipes across his overheated skin.

Cody took a breath and shook his head slowly, nose just barely brushing Obi Wan’s.

“Don’t—” and his voice broke on the sound. “Don’t make me a promise that can’t be kept.”

There was no anger or venom in the words. They both understood the stakes of the war, understood their places in it. Obi Wan had given himself over to what needed to be done, and Cody would have done the same. The potential for other, similar missions hung in the air like a weight that could drop at any time.

They were well and truly entangled in each other’s lives.

And they both knew it.

Obi Wan tightened his grip on the back of Cody’s neck. “If I had my wish, you would never have to go through that ever again.”

Cody breathed deeply, nudging Obi Wan’s forehead again before leaning away slightly to look at him. He memorized the constellations of Obi Wan’s freckles and the shape of his dimples and the few flecks of grey in his short hair. Cody’s eyes traced the faint scar across one cheek he had gotten in the Second Battle of Geonosis.

He didn’t notice he had been staring for over than a minute until Obi Wan’s cheeks began to turn pink. There was still uncertainty lingering in those blue eyes.

Cody was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, but instead he moved his hand from the back of Obi Wan’s neck and gently traced the line of his General's jaw with his fingertips.

“I don’t think I’ve never seen you without a beard.”

The last of the tension left Obi Wan’s shoulders and he dropped his own hand from Cody’s neck, leaving his other arm still looped around his waist.

“I hope you never do,” he responded. “I rather like my beard.”

“I wonder what you would look like without it,” Cody mused. He laid his hand against the point where Obi Wan’s shoulder met his neck, his thumb resting against the spot where he could feel his General’s pulse. Then a thought occurred to him that made him grin slightly.

“I bet I could ask General Vos for pictures.”

Obi Wan threw his head back and laughed, showing off every one of his teeth, and Cody reveled in the feel of it under his palm.

________________________

Cody found it hard to wander far from Obi Wan after that. He lingered even closer than usual, and to get his attention Cody would reach out and put a hand on Obi Wan’s arm or shoulder, just to verify that his General was there.

He reminded himself that Obi Wan was really back, Cody felt his body heat through the fabric of his glove.

The red-gold hair at the corner of his vision wasn’t a ghost or a figment of the ache in his chest.

Obi Wan was alive, and he was back with the 212nd.

They spent large amounts of time tucked into Obi Wan’s quarters, filing paperwork, studying battle plans, sometimes Obi Wan would lend him a holonovel and they would read in silence, and sometimes they just talked. A second chair had since become a fixture at Obi Wan’s desk. After his undercover mission, he was willing to answer any of Cody’s questions in order to prove himself. Not that he needed to.

Cody had hurt more than he though himself capable, and there were moments he would ache just as keenly as the week he had suffered, but he still trusted Obi Wan implicitly. He would follow his lead to the end.

It was on one of those nights when they had been quietly exchanging stories that Cody had a sudden thought.

“Obi Wan, I have a favor to ask you.”

His General responded immediately without looking up from his datapad. “Anything, my dear.”

Since his return, he had been subconsciously dropping more endearments into their conversations, and each time he did the hope in Cody’s chest flared bright enough to hurt.

“I was wondering, could you teach me how to meditate? Unless it’s just something for _jetii_.”

Obi Wan set down the datapad and raised a hand to his beard in thought. He reached out for his half empty cup and looked at Cody.

“I don’t see why not. Would you want me to guide you through it or just explain and let you meditate on your own time?”

“I think guided would be best.” The idea of having to unspool every painful thought in his head on his own filled Cody with anticipatory fear. He had grown up leaning on his brothers and having them look to him in return, Obi Wan’s presence would be a balm to his restlessness.

Cody put it off for another a week until they found themselves with down time between planets and he was sat once again in a chair at Obi Wan’s desk. After he finished a particularly long-winded bit of paperwork, he put down his stylus and looked up at Obi Wan. Even though they had been holed up for over two hours, Cody had noticed that the last 30 minutes had consisted of Obi Wan hovering his stylus over the same datapad and worrying his lip intermittently.

“Would you like to take a break?”

Obi Wan set the stylus down with a _click_ and smiled over at Cody. “You always have the best suggestions.”

He grinned. “Actually, I was going to ask if you could teach me how to meditate.”

The jedi turned, pushing his chair back with a soft light in his eyes. He nodded and gestured to the room around them.

“Would you like to try here or move somewhere else?”

“Here is fine.”

They pushed the chairs into a corner, and when Obi Wan sat with his legs folded beneath him Cody mirrored his movements. He kept his hands loose in his lap, his knees inches from Obi Wan’s in the small space.

Obi Wan directed him to sync up their breathing, and his gentle presence helped settle the tension that still lingered in Cody’s shoulders. He heard Obi Wan recite some overly poetic line about finding his center that he knew was most likely memorized, but Cody understood and followed as best he could.

He had always been good at observing; noticing details, making a plan, and now he turned that focus on himself. The feel of his blacks against his skin and the weight of the armor on his back. The slightly too-warm air in Obi Wan’s room, the steady thud of his heart inside his chest, and the slow rush of air into his lungs. It was comforting to focus on just himself for the moment, and soon he settled into the feeling and let his attention drift across to Obi Wan.

His General’s eyes were closed and his face was nearly blank, but it changed the more Cody watched. There was an odd feeling in his head, like someone brushing their fingers lightly against his mind.

It neared the still-painful memories of the month before and Cody’s hands clenched involuntarily. He thought about the sharp broken-glass feeling in his chest that he’d carried for a week and the glowing, searing relief that had taken its place. But the reason he had wanted to meditate was because he wanted to move past the ache of Obi Wan’s “death”. He wanted to be able to sleep without waking to the image of Obi Wan’s crumpled body haunting his dreams.

Obi Wan’s expression grew pinched and sad. “Oh, Cody.”

He opened his eyes and inched closer until their knees were touching.

“I’m right here. I can help.” And then Cody felt a familiar warmth in the back of his mind where he sometimes sensed Obi Wan. He concentrated on syncing their breathing again, focusing on Obi Wan and his beating heart, just nearby.

They closed their eyes together and listened to the noise of the water in the planted tank. They felt the soft, persistent vibrations of the ship’s engines rumble away beneath them.

It helped, having some tangible proof of Obi Wan’s presence while his fears played out behind his eyes. He compared the imagined sight of Obi Wan’s dead body with the real, warm pressure of him where their knees were pressed together and it gave him something to focus on.

His heart steadied after another few minutes and when he opened his eyes he found Obi Wan already looking at him.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Cody’s cheeks were warm but he shook his head.

“No, but thank you, sir. That did help.”

Obi Wan stood and offered his hand help Cody up. He took it gratefully, wishing that he could feel his General’s touch against his skin.

“If you would like to meditate again just let me know.”

“Of course, Obi Wan.”

He was still holding Cody’s hand and the callouses caught on the fabric of his glove. His grip was warm and there was a part of Cody that never wanted him to let go.

________________________

They were temporarily recalled to Coruscant and Cody took the opportunity to check in with his men. He saw more trinkets appear in the barracks and he smiled to see them filling up the space with personal items.

One day Obi Wan returned from a meeting in the Temple and Cody could tell something had shaken him. They went to his quarters and he collapsed onto the couch, his eyes staring into space at something Cody could not see.

He made a pot of tea, the movement as familiar to him now as loading his blaster or lining up a punch. Cody brought both mugs with him as he sat next to Obi Wan on the couch.

He was slightly startled when his General didn’t automatically reach for the tea.

“Obi Wan?”

His gaze flicked toward Cody. His lips were pursed beneath his beard and he took the tea without speaking. Cody inched closer until his knee was touching Obi Wan’s, creating just a single point of contact, but he would do no more until he knew what was wrong.

“I’m being sent out tomorrow,” Obi Wan said quietly. “To verify the return of a man I thought I had killed over 10 years ago.”

Cody leaned forward, setting his half-empty cup on the table and turning back to Obi Wan to give him his full attention.

“Is there any possibility that he survived?” His tone was carefully curious but he noticed his General’s eyes were fixed on a point somewhere between them and the door. He took a sip of tea mechanically.

“I would have thought not but… I do not know the full extent of the dark side.”

Cody fidgeted in his seat, thinking of Dooku and Ventress and their casual cruelty so unlike the _jetiise_ generals he had gotten to know. He extended an arm across the back of the couch, his hand resting on Obi Wan’s shoulder. His General took a breath and dropped his gaze to his lap.

“Coincidentally, his death was the reason I was made a knight. And how I came to train Anakin.”

Cody stayed quiet. He would listen to whatever Obi Wan needed to say—now was not the time for an interrogation.

“He was supposed to be trained by my master, Qui Gon Jinn. But then Maul appeared. The first Sith seen in close to one thousand years.” Obi Wan’s words came out stilted and low, but once he started he didn’t seem able to stop. “We tried to fight him together, but he separated us and I had to watch as he ran my master through with that red lightsaber. I killed him then, cut him in half and kicked the pieces into a power generator, but it was too late for Master Jinn. I held him as he died, and I returned to Anakin alone.”

His knuckles were white around the cup of tea and Cody tightened the grip on his shoulder. His curiosity had been eclipsed by anxiety. No one would be sending Obi Wan to face this Sith by himself.

“I’m coming with you.”

Obi Wan’s wide eyes snapped to him. “No you are not. Cody, you cannot come on this mission.”

“There is no way I am letting you face this man alone, not after knowing what he’s done.”

Obi Wan set his cup on the coffee table with a sharp noise.

“We don’t even know if this is indeed the same man. That’s the whole reason I’m going, to make sure.”

“And if it is?” Panic flared in Cody’s chest.

“Then I will fight him like I did before.”

“I can accompany you, as a simple escort.”

Obi Wan shook his head. “His message was sent to the Temple, and he is a Sith, not a Separatist. There are no grounds to send Republic troops on a Jedi mission.”

“Then just let me come alone. _Please_ , Obi Wan.”

But his General’s expression had grown resolute. He shook off Cody’s hand and stood, bringing both their cups of tea into the kitchen. He walked back out and Cody got to his feet. Obi Wan had that sad look on his face, the one that Cody hated more than anything, but his insistence on accompanying him only seemed to make it worse.

He walked to the door, helmet in hand, ignoring every instinct in his body that screamed to turn back and beg Obi Wan to bring him along. Cody lingered, not wanting to leave but knowing he probably should, and Obi Wan stepped in front of him before he could make a move either way.

“Please understand,” he said, and his eyes bored into Cody’s. “I wish that I could bring you with me, but if it is the same man… I cannot let him take anyone else from me.”

Cody leaned forward enough to rest his forehead against Obi Wan’s and the jedi pressed into the gesture with gentle reassurance. After a moment Cody pulled away and Obi Wan set his lips determinedly, still with that sad look in his eyes.

_ "Gedet’ye cuyi ulyc." _

Obi Wan’s expression softened. “Of course, _ ner al’verde." _

Over the next two days he jumped at every comm message. He couldn’t get the memory of that Republic news broadcast out of his head from the day Obi Wan had been pronounced dead. He busied himself resupplying the ship and drafting plans and ignoring Boil and Wooley’s constant hovering.

Just after his morning caf on the third day he got a comm from the Jedi Temple, Obi Wan had returned but he was confined to the medbay until further notice. As soon as he had a break in his schedule, Cody left Boil in charge and made his way from the barracks to the Temple. He had become enough of a familiar face there that he nodded to the guards as he walked through the main doors.

Cody eventually found the Halls of Healing, but he didn’t immediately see Obi Wan. A mon calamari woman in pale healer’s robes came up to greet him.

“Hello, may I help you?”

He straightened to attention, a _ jetii jah’ad _was still a _jetii._ “I am looking for General Kenobi.”

Her eyes skimmed the scar at his temple and widened. “You must be Commander Cody. Obi Wan has told me all about you.”

She took in his startled expression and smiled.

“Don’t worry, it was all good things. My name is Healer Eerin. We have him in one of the tanks, this way.”

He followed her to one of the alcoves hidden behind a curtain and saw Obi Wan suspended in a bacta tank. There was bruising across his entire body, but his torso was worse than Cody had ever seen. One of his eyes was swollen shut and there were scrapes across his jaw and back.

“What happened? Was it Maul?”

The doctor eyed him curiously. “We don’t know exactly. He showed up in a broken freighter this morning, it was on autopilot and he was the only one on board. We found him unconscious in the pilot’s seat and immediately brought him here to be treated. He cannot be questioned until he’s stable enough to be removed from the tank.”

She walked over to a small storage space and brought over a chair, setting it next to the bacta tank and gesturing for him to take a seat.

“With what Obi Wan has told me, I imagine you would like to stay with him for a while.”

He nodded cautiously but didn’t sit. “How bad are his injuries?”

Healer Eerin’s wide lips tilted downward and she lifted a datapad off the wall next to the tank. “Several of his ribs were broken and one of them punctured a lung. His shoulder was nearly wrenched out of its socket, there was a small a fracture in his left leg, and of course all of the visible scrapes and bruises.”

Cody looked at the unnatural stillness of his body in the bacta. He would stay for as long as they would let him, and he took the chair gratefully.

The doctor was still staring at the datapad, but Cody saw her look up at the tank and speak softly to the unconscious jedi. “You have far too many new scars, Obi.”

Cody set his helmet down next to the chair and turned to her. “You know the General well?”

Healer Eerin smiled. “Obi Wan and I grew up together here in the crèche. Though, since the war started it’s rare for us both to be on Coruscant at the same time.”

“Are you generally on the front lines?” Cody knew something of the basic structure of _jetii_ training, but he was unfamiliar with the teachers and healers that he knew some jedi became.

At his words, Healer Eerin’s expression turned suddenly cloudy. “I was made a General at the beginning of the war and I go where the Council decides to send me, but…” She looked at Obi Wan, “We were not meant for bloodshed. I would much rather be helping the people of the Republic than waging war on its behalf.”

“So would he.” Cody said, tilting his head in the direction of his General.

She huffed something that sounded fond. “I know he would.”

Healer Eerin gestured to an old scar on Obi Wan’s forearm. It was stretched in a way that told Cody he had received it when he was young and his body had grown beneath it.

“He got that one trying to save one of the other initiates when we were children. They had fallen into one of the ponds and he jumped in to save them—he cut himself on the rocks trying to pull them both to safety.”

“That one,” and Cody pointed to the scar on Obi Wan’s torso, just below his ribs, “Was when he blew up a line of fuel tanks to take out some Separatist droids before they could get to us. Brought the whole canyon down on himself to do it.”

The doctor looked between him and Obi Wan and shook her head. After a few more minutes of conversation she ducked away to check on other patients and Cody found a weight lifted from his chest. She cared about Obi Wan, and that eased some of the immediate panic that had taken root when he heard that his General was unconscious in the medical wing.

He ended up falling asleep in the chair next to the bacta tank, only waking the next morning after Healer Eerin laid a hand on his shoulder. She urged him to get something to eat and he stepped out of the medbay for a few hours to check in with his men and stop by the mess hall. He remained by Obi Wan’s side as much as possible until he was cleared to be taken out of the bacta tank a few days later.

The Council came in to question him once he was awake and Cody was politely ushered out of the room. As soon as Obi Wan was well enough to be up and about, they were sent back to the _Negotiator_ , and Cody was left to monitor the aftershocks of whatever Obi Wan had gone through.

For the next few weeks Cody attempted to ask how Obi Wan was sleeping after the haunted look in his eyes grew day by day, but each time his General would politely make his excuses and disappear before Cody could question him.

They were in Obi Wan’s quarters going over reports when he decided to try again. His General’s fingers were clenched and one of his feet tapped impatiently. Cody set down his datapad and watched him for a moment before speaking.

“Obi Wan?”

His General’s brow furrowed but he did not look up. “Mmm?”

“We could meditate together if you think it would help.”

Cody kept his tone light but Obi Wan’s stylus stopped its scribbling. He set it down carefully and took a breath, still not looking at Cody.

“It might.”

Cody moved both of their chairs out of the way and fiddled with one of gloves while his General threw his robe onto the bed. He started removing pieces of his armor and Obi Wan’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, but Cody stopped when chest and arms were free of plastoid.

“I have an idea.”

Obi Wan looked at him oddly for a moment but he took his place on the floor. Instead of sitting across from him, though, Cody walked around and sat with his back pressed to Obi Wan’s. With his armor removed, his spine was a line of warmth in the cold room.

Cody felt a nudge against the back of his head.

“Thank you, Cody.”

He smiled and focused on his breathing, drifting from himself to Obi Wan. After a moment he felt the oddest sensation of fear like fog creeping around his neck. There was anger, too, and sadness.

Obi Wan flinched and Cody tilted his head back until they were touching. He held it there for a moment and his General leaned back with his shoulders. They stayed like that for a minute until Cody broke the silence.

“Was it him?”

He could feel the deep breath Obi Wan took before he responded. “It was.”

Another beat. “How are your ribs?”

“Nearly healed.”

Obi Wan was tense against him and Cody didn’t have to see his face in order to imagine the look of intense concentration he knew was there. When he didn’t relax Cody shifted again.

“You came back, Obi Wan.”

He slumped against Cody’s back and brought a hand up to his face. “Maul is still out there.”

Cody twisted far enough to put a hand on Obi Wan’s knee.

“Then we will be ready for him when he returns.”

Obi Wan gripped Cody’s hand and their breathing evened out together after a few minutes. They stayed on the floor a little longer before getting to their feet.

“Thank you, Cody.”

Though Obi Wan looked steadier than before, there were still dark circles under his eyes. Cody leaned forward and brushed an imaginary speck of dust off of his General’s tunics.

“You still need to sleep, _ner jetii._ _ Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni." _

Obi Wan grinned lightly. “I’ll try, I promise.”

________________________

The General was briefly dispatched to Onderon by the Council, and after he returned to Coruscant he was brought back aboard the _Negotiator_ for their next mission.

They were in dead space between planets when they received a transmission from a ship full of younglings with the news that they were stranded and that Commander Tano had been captured. Obi Wan bristled beside him and his eyebrows furrowed in worry, but he immediately agreed to help. Before they could do so, however, they were cornered by Separatist warships and forced to fight off both a boarding party of droids and General Grievous himself.

Out of the corner of his eye Cody saw Obi Wan carry a pilot away from the smoking wreckage of his ship, but soon they were surrounded and General Grievous inched towards them menacingly.

He killed one of their men right in front of Obi Wan, whose eyes went cold as he took up his saber and rushed at the cyborg. Cody knew it was to distract Grevious while more troopers got away, but he didn’t leave his General’s side.

They managed to stall him with an exploding fuel barrel before calling a retreat and giving the order to abandon the ship.

Cody didn’t want to leave the _Negotiator_ , the ship had been his home since the beginning of the war, but Obi Wan was right. They would risk too many lives if they stayed and fought against the droids’ superior numbers.

Obi Wan had one last trick up his sleeve, however, and the two of them rigged the ship to self-destruct with a short holo-message to Grievous. Cody watched his General record the message, and the exaggerated defeat while he “surrendered” had Cody muffling his laughter behind a gloved hand. Obi Wan caught his eye with a smug grin after the camera stopped recording and winked. Cody shook his head but followed the jedi to the escape pods.

Once everyone was inside they jettisoned the pods and watched the ship blow itself to pieces. Cody tried not to feel anything but grim satisfaction as dismembered droid parts drifted past the viewport.

Obi Wan's mind was still on the children, though, and Cody couldn’t blame him. He sat pressed up against his General despite the space in the escape pod and told him that they were going to be alright.

“I’m fairly certain _ jetii’ade _ are just as resourceful as _ jetii ori’ade." _

Obi Wan smiled. “I’m sure you’re right, but…”

“I know. They’ll be okay.”

After a moment he made a soft noise as he stared at the wreckage of their smoking ship.

Cody leaned into him, following the direction of his eyes. “What?”

“I quite liked those plants.”

Cody couldn’t help it, he laughed. He didn’t care that there were half a dozen men in the escape pod with them, or that Obi Wan was looking at him like a kicked tooka. Cody had his General back, even after everything.

Obi Wan was a sturdy presence at his side, worrying about his plants like he worried about the younglings and their men. They had lost much in their hasty evacuation of the _Negotiator_ , but as long as Cody could lead his brothers next to Obi Wan, or drink a cup of caf with him while they waited for the day shift to start, he didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mhi ru kyr’amu vode, Kote_ : We killed brothers, Kote.  
>  _Elek. A'bic ne’cuyi gar chak._ : Yes. But it was not your fault. [no word for fault in mando'a, the literal meaning of "chak" is crime]  
>  _Gedet'ye_ : Please  
>  _Tion ven'gaanade?_ : What would you choose?  
>  _Ni dinui gar jate'kara_ : I give you luck. [luck lit. "good stars", also used to mean destiny] ( I know that there is a term for "to wish" in mando'a, but it felt too flippant for this moment. I wanted to use "give" in the context of "I am willing your happy ending into being.")  
>  _Ne'jor meg bic aala sa_ : That's not what it feels like  
>  _Gar ru’cabuo kaysh anay tuur ru’cuyi tome, ne’digu gar ru’cuyi dul iral’kar dar’tome. Kaysh ven ne’vore gar kar’aray._ : You protected him every day you were together, do not forget that you were half a galaxy apart. He would not accept your remorse. (I wanted to use "guilt" here, but there is no word for it in mando'a)  
>  _Gedet'ye cuyi ulyc_ : Please be careful.  
>  _ner al'verde_ : my commander  
>  _jah'ad_ : doctor  
>  _Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni_ : You're no use to me dead. (this is mando'a slang, so there isn't a direct translation, most commonly used to mean "get some rest")  
> 
> 
> I've seen a lot of takes on various character's reactions to what Obi Wan did in the Deception arc, and is Cody angry about it? At first, absolutely, but I really think that once he understands the strategy (what exactly they had to risk to prevent what they saw as a crippling blow to the Republic) I think he would have understood. There was a good post about it [here](https://atelier-dayz.tumblr.com/post/621995496636137472/you-know-what-i-dont-think-obi-wan-was-wrong-to).  
> Also, here is a lovely little art of post-Deception Obi Wan still growing back his beard and hair: ([x](https://new-anon.tumblr.com/post/630432593199906816/post-rako-hardeen-arc).)
> 
> At one point I had planned to have the scene with Bly in chapter 9, but putting it here right before the Deception arc made it so much more of a punch in the gut... I would say I'm sorry but I'm really not.
> 
> Wooley: is a highly trained soldier of the Republic, canonically has a mowhawk  
> Me: Babey
> 
> I need to bring y'alls attention to [this Cody art](https://jars-artcollection.tumblr.com/post/632811048631713792/okay-1-your-art-is-gorgeous-what-the-heck). It has nothing to do with this chapter, but it's gorgeous and I love it (and the artist based it on an actual pic of Temuera Morrison, so bonus)


	11. Obi Wan just wants the universe to let him sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I hope you had a good holiday [my whole family was put into quarantine the day before christmas and it only took like 2 days for us all to want to kill each other]
> 
> REMINDER: Hover your cursor over the Mando'a and 90% of the time a translation will pop up (I did not tag words I had defined in earlier chapters or frequently used words) For folks on mobile I kept all the translations in the endotes, too.

Obi Wan struggled with his exhaustion every mission, perpetually aware that it was a holding battle they were waging and that too many clones and jedi were dying every day. So when the Jedi Council approached him with an opportunity to prevent the kidnap of the Supreme Chancellor, he took it without hesitation. As much as he disliked politicians (and Palpatine himself had always felt particularly oily to Obi Wan) the Chancellor’s loss would signal a swift Separatist victory, and it would hit Anakin hard.

He thought of Cody. He thought of his men. He thought about what a Separatist victory would do to them. They had almost no rights under the government that needed them, what would happen to them within a system that did not?

So he took the Hardeen mission and pushed the worry to the back of his mind. His new face itched and the voice modulator in his throat made every word out of his mouth briefly startling.

_This was for the Republic. This is for the clones._

The constant refrain ran through his head and, on the darker nights: _This is for Cody._

Obi Wan drew on seldom-used skills to pass himself off as someone he was not—first among his fellow prisoners and later the group of bounty hunters. He forced himself to drop the stiffness in his bearing and the lightness in his step, effecting an arrogant sway to his shoulders and a heavy thud to his boots. The sniper rifle was a constant weight across his back and he suppressed a shudder when Dooku turned to him, unaware, and addressed him as the Marksman of Concord Dawn.

The Box, he was forced to admit, would have been fun in any other circumstance, but the mission came first and he was occupied by the cold, calculating minds of the other bounty hunters as well as the shrewd intrusiveness of his Grandmaster. He hadn’t been as successful as he thought, however, when his rifle was rigged and its case bugged, forcing him to go after the Chancellor himself when Dooku attempted to proceed with his plan.

But then Palpatine was safe and Obi Wan was face to face with Anakin, who was just as irate as he had feared.

He couldn’t help but be reminded of Mortis as Anakin’s anger bubbled like boiling lava and he focused on the fact of Obi Wan’s deception instead of the larger picture.

Finally his face was made his own again and the expression looking back at him from the mirror felt far too exposed without his beard. The shuttle that would pick him up and return him to the _Negotiator_ wasn’t due for a few days, it was enough time for him to start growing his beard and hair back—enough time that he could attempt to look somewhat like himself in front of Cody.

Obi Wan was unsure what his Commander’s response would be. The clones were no strangers to duty, but he would not blame Cody if he pulled away as a result of Obi Wan’s “death.” However, Obi Wan couldn’t imagine what he would do if that happened, couldn’t even think about working side by side if his Commander refused to meet his eyes anymore.

If that was the result of his mission, he would endure it as though the action didn’t cut something vital from beneath his ribs.

But when he finally reboarded the _Negotiator,_ Cody held him close and the strength of his relief and affection came close to bowling Obi Wan over. His gloved fingertips scrabbled over the plates of Cody’s armor in an effort to get them as close as possible. The warmth of his attention felt like sinking into a hot spring.

He wanted nothing more than to promise Cody neither of them would have to mourn again, but he could not. Cody was right.

Instead he leaned into the _ mirshmure’cya _ and reveled in the fact that it was Cody who pulled him close and held him there. Obi Wan never wanted to leave the comforting circle of his arms, but they had debriefings and battle plans and several thousand clones waiting for them outside of their little conference room.

Obi Wan pulled away eventually, following Cody’s lead. The heat built in his cheeks when Cody did nothing more than stare at him, but affection washed over him again as his Commander’s fingers skimmed over the stubble on his jaw that hadn’t had time to grow into his usual beard. He had no desire to be clean shaven again, not when he wanted to look the part of sage Jedi Master and not youthful padawan.

But under Cody’s gentle gaze, he didn’t quite think it mattered.

Cody stayed close to his side after that and Obi Wan didn’t blame him, but unease hung in the air and trailed behind his body like loose threads. He often caught Cody looking at him sometimes, like he wasn’t sure he was really there, and each time Obi Wan ached with something like regret. His mission saved the Chancellor’s life and prevented a Separatist victory, but it also caused lingering pain in the way Ahsoka looked at him like she was seeing a ghost and how Anakin flinched at the sound of his voice.

When Cody asked if Obi Wan would teach him how to meditate, he was inordinately pleased, not least because Cody was reaching out despite the sadness that still clung to him. Obi Wan thought of the way he was able to coax a half-concealed grin from Cody whenever he addressed him fondly and he did not hesitate to say yes.

But when they finally sat down to meditate, Obi Wan sensed something that made him pause. He knew that he tended to focus more on Cody than his other men—and that was nothing against them, only a manifestation of his own emotions—but something new tugged at him.

There was a faint force bond between himself and Cody. A thread of golden light, barely-there but pulled taught in the force.

He hadn’t meant for it to form, and he briefly wondered if Cody had noticed and not told him, but then he was swept into Cody’s emotions and the well of sadness that opened up beneath them made Obi Wan reach out.

_Oh, Cody._

He swept over his Commander in the force, smoothing as many of the jagged edges as he could and trying to project as much comfort as he was capable of. The tension bled out of Cody’s face slowly as he watched, and when he eventually opened his eyes Obi Wan did not turn away.

Dim blue light flowed in from the viewport window as they jumped through hyperspace, and Obi Wan thought that the flashing of passing stars reflected in Cody’s eyes was particularly beautiful.

When the Council called him back to Coruscant with an urgent message, he was entirely unprepared to see the face of Darth Maul looking out at him from a flickering hologram. He tucked his arms against his chest and tried to hold back the memories that flooded through him.

He had to face him. There was no other option, even as Mace attempted to dissuade him from going alone.

The face that had haunted his dreams since Naboo could not be allowed to haunt anyone else.

Obi Wan made it back to his quarters with Cody trailing behind, clearly aware that something was wrong. The familiar sounds of the kettle boiling and the cups clinking together filled the air as he fought not to slip further into his own head. He took the cup of tea after a moment and held it close to his chest. It was warm, as was the place where Cody sat just within reach. Always close, and always there, because keeping people safe meant just as much to Cody off the battlefield as on it.

Obi Wan sucked a breath into his uncooperative lungs and explained the situation as best he could. Cody sat still and silent, listening as intently as he would to a mission briefing. His Commander’s insistence on accompanying him pulled him rapidly back to the present.

It shouldn’t have surprised him, and he knew that a familiar presence by his side would be grounding if he really was to fight Maul again.

But he couldn’t.

The thought of Cody suffering the same fate as Qui Gon was unthinkable. If no one else came with him, then no one else would get hurt.

He wavered when Cody pulled him into a gentle _mirshmure’cya_ , but picturing someone else he cared about dying on a blood-red saber was too much.

His promise to be careful crumbled into dust as he slumped over the controls of a stolen freighter a few days later. The directions to the Temple were punched into the nav computer and the asteroid base where he had dropped off Ventress faded away through the rear viewport. He set the ship to autopilot and curled into the chair, holding in a pained gasp as his broken ribs shifted. There were sure to be bruises from Maul’s clawed feet on his chest and back if the aching pain was any indication.

The cockpit of the freighter steadily dimmed as one of his eyes swelled shut, and he slipped into unconsciousness as the ship lurched into hyperspace.

The feeling in his body came back slowly, in fits and starts, and he was aware after a certain point that he was submerged in a bacta tube. Familiar presences flitted in and out of his mind— _oh, he didn’t know Bant was back on Coruscant_ — and Cody’s grounding warmth lingered more than any other.

When he was well enough to be taken out of the bacta, he explained the mission haltingly to the council, wishing they had let Cody stay in the room.

They released him once he was steady enough to return to the _Negotiator_ , but sleep continued to elude him. Closing his eyes only led to more memories flashing through the dark like a broken holoprojector; the dull, rhythmic clanking of Maul stalking towards him, the hulking mass of Savage Oppress and the still-dull pain in his jaw, two blood-red sabers illuminating the darkness of the cargo bay on a stolen freighter.

He could tell Cody was concerned, but Obi Wan continually stepped around him whenever he attempted to talk about it. When Cody asked if meditation would help, however, he paused.

On his own, Obi Wan faced many of the same visions that haunted his attempts to sleep, but a joint meditation could help. His heart jumped in his chest when Cody stepped into his quarters and began removing his armor, and heat built around the back of his neck and ears. New images flashed behind his eyes— _that would certainly be a distraction—_ but what Cody had in mind was far gentler.

He was a line of solid support where they settled back-to-back on the floor, and when Obi Wan sunk into himself again the physical feeling became something to steady him. Dread bubbled up and he flinched at the memory of Maul, at the past and the present and the fear of a decades-old vendetta.

But there was Cody, reaching out to help him with that steadfast loyalty that settled all the rattling aches in his bones.

The specters of Maul and Savage didn’t loom as large with Cody there beside him. Not when a single golden thread tethered them together in the force.

He promised his Commander that he would try to get some sleep and resisted the urge that tugged at the space beneath his ribs, telling him to reach out for Cody as the door slid closed, blocking him from view.

A few weeks later they found themselves floating in an escape pod with the smoldering remnants of the _Negotiator_ spread out around them. His ship was gone, the few trinkets he had collected so far in the war had been turned to ash, but the younglings and Ahsoka still needed their help.

Cody assured him that the younglings would be alright in that warm, solid way of his and it gave Obi Wan hope as they were shortly picked up by a passing Republic cruiser. It wasn’t long before they got their answer when they were hailed by Hondo Ohnaka flying _Jango Fett’s_ _ship_ , with all of the younglings, Ahsoka, and R2 in tow.

When Hondo argued his “finder’s fee” Obi Wan could feel Cody bristle behind him, but the pirate was a swindler, not a mercenary, and after he had retreated back to his ship they both went to check on the younglings.

Obi Wan could feel their exhausted excitement and swiftly commed one of the officers to make sure there was room for them in one of the smaller barracks. After what they had been through, he suspected the younglings would most likely want to stay close to each other.

He arranged everything easily and they were adorably exited about their bunks as Ahsoka attempted to get them to wind down enough to go to sleep. After about an hour Obi Wan went to check on them and found her just leaving the room, her whole body reading exhaustion. She was tired enough that she collapsed onto his shoulder when he got close. Obi Wan brought a hand up around her shoulders automatically.

“You did wonderfully, young one.”

She huffed against him, now sagging under the weight of her own fatigue. “Don’t ask me to chaperone again.”

Obi Wan reached up and rubbed a spot between her montrals that she always complained was sore and she swayed in his arms. The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor and he looked up to see Cody rounding the corner.

His expression softened considerably when he saw Ahsoka and he slowed to a stop beside them.

“The younglings all asleep?”

Ahsoka nodded into his shoulder and Obi Wan tightened his grip around her. “This one should sleep as well.”

“I’ll get to it,” she mumbled softly, beginning to drift off where she stood. “And I’m not a youngling anymore.”

Cody chuckled as her eyes closed. “Of course not, _ verd’ika _.”

Obi Wan lifted her into his arms, mindful of her lekku, and carried her down the hall to one of the spare officer’s rooms.

The flight back to Coruscant was uneventful, and they had a couple of days to spare before he and Cody were whisked away for a strategy conference that quickly turned into an attempted bombing. Then he was immediately slammed right back into his nightmares with the news that Maul and Savage had been sighted attacking a nearby space station.

There was nothing he could do the last time they met. He had been blindsided by Savage and beaten to unconsciousness before Ventress found him, but this time he could at least brace himself for what was to come.

Despite everything, he watched Master Gallia die when he couldn’t save her, and Maul and Savage slipped through his fingers _again_.

He didn’t stay long on Florrum after that, bartering with Hondo for the use of one of his shuttles to fly himself and Adi’s body to the nearest Republic ship. They made it to the Temple quickly and Obi Wan stood quietly as he watched yet another funeral for a jedi he knew well.

It was too much. The amount of death the galaxy was facing every single day, the amount of jedi— _the amount of clones_ —that died every time they took up arms. The war needed to end, even though he could see no clear way to go about it without putting more people at risk.

When the call from Satine came in a week later he was still on Coruscant taking control of his new flagship, and his immediate stab of horror was followed by the thought that, if he went alone, no one else was likely to get hurt. He sent Cody a brief message on his personal frequency, remembering the hard set of his Commander’s jaw after Zygerria and the way his hands had trembled after the Rako Hardeen mission—just a few lines about how he had a mission off-world and he wouldn’t be back for a while. Then he took his bounty hunting gear and one of Anakin’s ships and flew to Mandalore.

What awaited him there was worse than he could have imagined.

Maul very nearly got what he wanted, taunting him in the grand throne room, surrounded on all sides by reinforcements and holding a gasping Satine in the air.

Then she was gone and Obi Wan was dropped into a nightmare thirteen years in the past.

The sudden empty void in his chest howled with fury as Satine’s body lay cooling on the floor and he fought his way through Maul’s men and out of the throne room. By the time he was on a transport off the planet, the weight of his stolen beskar and jetpack sat heavily on his shoulders. He was picked up quickly just outside Mandalorian space and radioed Coruscant to let them know of the invasion on the planet below.

The anger had drained out of him but the bitterness remained and every step down the long hallways of the _Integrity_ rattled his nerves.

A few days later Cody cornered him on his way out of a conference room, following close enough behind that Obi Wan knew he wasn’t simply heading to their next destination. He veered off into a side corridor and stopped once they were out of sight of the main hall.

Obi Wan turned and Cody’s gaze took in the shadows under his eyes and the way he kept his hands hidden beneath the sleeves of his robes.

“Cody—”

His Commander reached out tentatively and let his fingers rest on one of Obi Wan’s wrists, not enough to pull him aside but the pressure was gentle and insistent. “Obi Wan, please. Let me help.”

Obi Wan didn’t respond, drawing on his Commander’s touch and attempting to ground himself in the feeling.

Cody tried again. “You helped me, let me do the same.”

Obi Wan took a breath, though he still would not meet Cody’s gaze. The feeling of loss and helplessness always hit him when he closed his eyes at night, and he knew the lack of sleep was making him noticeably distant. Cody didn’t deserve that, but the urge to lean in and lose himself in his Commander’s presence for the moment was overwhelmingly tempting. He didn’t want to think about anything else for a moment.

“I know I haven’t been at my best, but by the time we make planetfall I should be—”

“This is not about your performance as a General, Obi Wan. I’m worried about you.”

Obi Wan looked up into Cody’s eyes and the rattling pain in his chest stilled. He had been struggling for more than a year with the selfish desire to simply cling to Cody like a lifeline. He would never pull Cody away from his brothers, but his heart ached to hear his Commander offer him support so freely.

They held each other’s gaze for a minute before Obi Wan’s shoulders dropped from where they had been tensely hitched up around his ears.

“Alright,” he said softly.

Cody released Obi Wan’s wrist but made no move to step away.

“I can sit with you, or meditate, or whatever will help,” he made a swift, aborted movement like he meant to reach out to Obi Wan again but pulled his hand back at the last minute. His lips twitched into a hesitant smile.

“I can even call Helix if you need something stronger.”

“That may not be a bad idea,” Obi Wan huffed a laugh and saw Cody’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “But I don’t think it will be necessary.”

His Commander nodded, taking a step to the side like he meant to turn back out into the hall. “I will come by later. There are no immediate orders tomorrow so we should have some time to… do whatever.” A flush spread across his cheeks and Obi Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, my dear.”

Cody made a small, determined nod and headed out toward the bridge. Obi Wan watched him walk away, but the place beneath his ribs was filled with soft warmth for the first time in days.

Later, he retreated to his quarter to work on extra files—he had gone through all of the forms left behind when he went to Mandalore and now he worked his way through ones that were not yet due just to keep his mind occupied.

There was a gentle knock against his door, and he called for Cody to enter. He blinked when he saw that he was wearing soft red sleepclothes instead of his armor or blacks. Obi Wan’s eyes caught on the glimpse of a collarbone and the bare skin of his hands and wrists. He pushed aside the heat that stirred somewhere deep in his subconscious, Cody had offered his support because he was kind and thoughtful and not because he wanted his General to jump him when they were alone.

Cody walked over to the bed and leaned on the edge, eyeing the pile of datapads on the desk. Obi Wan cleared his throat.

“There was some work I needed to catch up on.”

Cody kept staring at him. “I don’t think you were gone long enough for that many datapads to pile up, sir.”

The room was quiet without the filter of the planted tank. He’d not had time to find new plants or keepsakes to fill his room on the new ship yet. Cody pushed off from the bed and Obi Wan stretched an arm out, pulling the second chair forward from where it was placed against the wall. Cody took it without hesitating. He stared at Obi Wan intently for a few moments before his expression softened. Obi Wan shifted to look at the pile of robes nearly hiding the kettle from view and listened to the concern in his Commander’s voice.

“I’m worried about you Obi Wan, and not about your performance as my General. I’m worried that you haven’t been sleeping, or that I haven’t seen you actually sit down for a meal anytime in the last few days.”

Cody was right of course. It wasn’t the first time he had noticed something Obi Wan wanted to hide—generally so that he wouldn’t be worried—and he was sure it would not be the last. Sleep had been just as difficult to find as after he fought Maul and Savage above Raydonia, and his appetite had been fleeting since he returned from Mandalore.

When he finally spoke it was quiet.

“It’s not for lack of trying.”

His Commander looked pained but Obi Wan could feel where his gaze landed on his cheek, his beard, his downturned eyes.

“What can I do?”

Oh, but Obi Wan’s heart broke just a bit to hear the earnestness in Cody’s voice. If Obi Wan asked in that moment to stop the ship and simply float through space for a day, Cody would have called out the order without batting an eye.

The pure, uncomplicated devotion filling the room took Obi Wan’s breath away. He reached forward and took his Commander’s hand, the warmth of his skin a tether in the rising tide of his thoughts. Obi Wan ran a thumb over knuckles scarred from years of combat.

“Stay,” was all he could answer.

Cody’s fingers tightened in his and he nodded. Obi Wan squeezed his hand once before letting go and lifting the pile of robes off the kettle. The smell of tea was familiar and comforting, and the brush of Cody’s fingers against his when he handed him a cup was even more so.

His Commander didn’t ask him any questions and Obi Wan as inordinately grateful, but he deserved some amount of explanation and Obi Wan did not like leaving him in the dark.

“I was on Mandalore.”

One of Cody’s eyebrows rose the smallest amount but otherwise he did not react.

“Duchess Kryze sent a distress signal asking for my help. Sundari was under attack and she had been imprisoned, but the Council would not send any assistance, so I went alone.” The cup shifted in Obi Wan’s hands as he fought the urge to hide them. “We were very close, many years ago. I could not ignore her call for help.”

Cody made another of those cut-off movements like he meant to reach out, but he held himself back. He still had that dreadful, serious look on his face.

Obi Wan continued. “She’s dead now. I couldn’t save her just as I couldn’t save Qui Gon. It was Maul, again, and I couldn’t help them.”

Then Cody did move, setting his cup down on the desk and leaving the chair to kneel in front of Obi Wan. He was reminded of when he did the same for Cody after the attack on Kamino, except now there was no armor to remove. There was no plastoid shell between the two of them, just as there was nothing but comforting reassurance coming from Cody.

“But you did,” he said, his hands surrounding Obi Wan’s where they were clutching his mug, the tea held between them both. “You helped them as best you could. I know Mandalore is a neutral planet, the Republic never would have sent troops if it meant breaking a treaty. You went and you tried as hard as you could.”

Obi Wan raised a hand to say something dismissive but Cody cut him off and caught it with his own.

“You did. I know you tried as hard as you could because you’ve never given anything less.”

Muscles all over his body still ached with residual tension and their bubble of free time would only last so long, but just then Obi Wan never wanted Cody to let go. His Commander stood, taking the empty cup from his hands and turning to place it on the desk, and to Obi Wan’s amusement he made sure that their hands stayed linked, even as their arms were stretched across the air between. He wondered briefly if some of his emotions were bleeding across the force bond just as he could feel Cody’s.

There was a gentle glint in Cody’s eye as he stepped back to the side of Obi Wan’s chair.

“Now come on. I need you to put all that effort into getting some sleep.”

Cody gestured toward the bed and Obi Wan sighed through a smile, falling back into a familiar rhythm. “Only if you stay and get some sleep yourself.”

He enjoyed the way Cody smiled as he removed his outer tunics and turned off the light above the desk.

Obi Wan situated himself on the narrow bunk so that he was on his side, assuming that Cody would slot himself into the available space, but instead he pushed at Obi Wan’s shoulder until he was lying on his back. The bed shifted as Cody pushed up above him, forearms on either side of Obi Wan’s shoulders, looking down intently like some kind of big cat.

Without warning he fell gently onto Obi Wan’s chest, chin resting on his sternum. The bulk of him pressed Obi Wan down into the hard mattress.

“Cody dear, I can’t move.”

His Commander shifted so that the curls of his hair brushed against the underside of Obi Wan’s jaw and his nose rested against the stretch of his neck.

“Good. Maybe then you’ll stay put.”

Obi Wan laughed and brought a hand up to lightly run over the lines of Cody’s back. His Commander melted into him and buried his face even deeper against Obi Wan’s neck in a way that sent heat skating down his spine. Cody pulled the blanket over them both without looking at it and tucked his arms against Obi Wan’s sides.

His hands attempted to trace idle patterns against Cody’s sleepclothes, but after a few minutes of his Commander’s grounding weight and the warm press of his mind, Obi Wan fell asleep easier than he had in weeks.

Obi Wan awoke several hours later to the low light of the viewport lining up with the star they were currently orbiting. Cody had moved slightly in his sleep and was now curled around Obi Wan’s side with an arm thrown over his chest and nose pressed to his shoulder. He moved slowly, not wanting to wake his Commander, and inched out from under his arm. Obi Wan crawled out of the bed and felt Cody stir behind him, the brief shifting of the blanket letting a waft of cold air under the warm covers. He groaned and Obi Wan watched as he stretched his toes under the covers. The little kettle began to bubble as he rooted through the crate on his desk for the appropriate brand of tea.

“I am assuming you would like a cup as well?” His voice was raised over the low clinking noises of the tins in the crate.

Cody sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist. _ "Elek gedet’ye, cyar." _

Obi Wan fumbled with the tea he was holding and put it down on the desk before he could drop it. Something bloomed bright and hot in his chest as the words rang in his ears. Cody realized what he had said a moment too late, but instead of withdrawing, Obi Wan felt the _rightness_ and affection that came with the words. The tips of his ears turned pink.

The bed creaked as it shifted and he glanced over to see Cody run a hand over his hair and smile, smug and amused. Obi Wan turned back to his tea, a soft, pleased grin breaking across his face.

He fiddled with the kettle for a moment, and when the water was just shy of boiling he poured out two cups. One of them he handed to his Commander, still on _his_ bed with the curls of his hair adorably ruffled from sleep.

Cody took the cup with one hand and caught Obi Wan’s fingers with the other. He looked down at their hands and shook his head, the slow affection still warming Obi Wan down to his toes. Cody tugged at his hand gently until he was forced to lean on the side of the bed, holding his cup of tea carefully aloft so it would not spill.

Obi Wan laughed and he studied Cody in the early morning light. They were in orbit around a binary star and the light fell into the room softly, illuminating them both. Obi Wan wondered if Cody had noticed the strands of grey beginning to pepper his own hair. Even though he kept it short enough at the temples that it would not be noticeable, it stood out against the black. The war had aged them both, and Obi Wan tried hard not to think about the accelerated aging that was still working its way through the clones’ DNA.

Cody pushed up the sleeves of his sleepshirt and Obi Wan studied the way his skin was lit up in the light from the window. It distracted him from the pounding in his head and the achiness that still wound his muscles into knots. He leaned further until his temple rested against Cody’s collarbone and his Commander brought a hand up around to settle on Obi Wan’s back.

He thought about the spark of hope deep in his chest, the wish that the end of the war would bring them both the freedom to be equals in the eyes of the Republic, but he could never ask Cody to stop being a soldier any more than Cody could ask him to stop being a Jedi. However, there were things he _could_ have.

Waking by Cody’s side used to be part of a potential future that was out of his grasp, but they had done just that on multiple occasions with no repercussions. It was something that didn’t need to be a dream.

Cody chuckled above him as Obi Wan hopped up onto the bed properly and leaned back against the wall, his legs falling over his Commander’s and trapping him on the bed.

“You need to let me out eventually,” he said around his mug of tea. “I left my armor in my quarters.”

Obi Wan shrugged. “We don’t have anywhere to be, for now.”

“As much as I would enjoy a slow morning, _cyar,_ I know the looks I would get if I walked to my quarters in my sleepclothes at midday.”

This time, Obi Wan knew the endearment was intentional and he sipped his tea to hide his grin. There was faint pressure on the top of his head where Cody rested his chin against his hair.

“So, after a year of doing it to me you can’t handle it back. Noted.”

Obi Wan huffed, still smiling, and curled closer to Cody.

Everything went wrong very quickly after that. The bombing, the murder, the arrest, Ahsoka.

_Not Ahsoka_.

Ahsoka wasn’t wrong, Obi Wan knew that in his gut. While he would be the first to admit he had been somewhat distracted for the last 13 years training Anakin, there had been several times when he visited the crèches and he remembered vaguely watching her grow up. Then she became his grandpadawan and he had a front-row seat to her headstrong determination and fantastic spirit.

Ahsoka would not, and could not, carry out a bombing of the Temple that she cared so much about.

Of that, Obi Wan was absolutely positive.

He was less positive about the way the Senate had swooped in and taken jurisdiction away from the Jedi.

It was _their_ Temple, but that had not stopped them from detaining Letta Turmond and then Ahsoka in military custody and immediately setting up a trial that was more sensation than substance. If a Jedi had been the one to orchestrate the bombing (and the very thought made Obi Wan’s stomach churn with disbelief and unease), it should be handled by the Jedi Council and not Tarkin or his glorified executioners.

But other than argue for Ahsoka’s innocence to the Council, there was little he could do against the Senate, so he retreated to his rooms to await their verdict. If Obi Wan hadn’t worn a path in is floor over the years he had spent training Anakin he was unlikely to do it now, but his current pacing made it a real possibility.

There was a soft knock and Obi Wan looked up to see Cody step through the sliding door and put his helmet down with a thud on the little table. It was late and Obi Wan had not anticipated any visitors, which meant something was wrong.

Cody swayed slightly as he stood there, he looked as exhausted as Obi Wan felt. Eventually he glanced up with an expression of pained resignation.

“Commander Tano escaped.”

He froze mid-step halfway through his circuit of the apartment. _Ahsoka wouldn’t_. But she would, he knew, because she was just as headstrong as her master, and if there was a way to find the real culprit she would do it, no matter how it looked. Obi Wan slowly made his way over to the couch and his breath whooshed out in a rush. He watched as Cody steadied himself and crossed the room. The cushion dipped as he sat down, all pretense forgotten as they were pressed together from knee to shoulder.

“There were troopers injured in her breakout.” Cody was quiet for a moment and Obi Wan could see a muscle in his jaw working. “I want to believe it wasn’t her, but…”

“As do I.” Obi Wan said quietly.

They sat silently for a moment and he could almost hear the thoughts grinding away inside Cody’s head.

“Ahsoka wouldn’t bomb the temple, would she?”

The immediate surge of defensive protest caught in his throat when he picked up the threads of memory attached to Cody’s question. The helpless anger that had burned through him at each betrayal—first from Slick and then from General Krell—and the certainty that he had once been able to trust them.

Cody only ever wanted to keep everyone safe, and he had been so sure that everyone else did too. It hurt something deep in Obi Wan’s chest to see him lose that faith.

He thought hard for a few minutes before he turned on the couch, lifting his arm and laying a hand on the back of Cody’s neck. Above the line of his blacks, Cody’s skin was warm and he leaned into the touch automatically, turning to face Obi Wan.

“I know that she didn’t, and do you know why?”

Cody shook his head once.

“Because Ahsoka is her master’s padawan. If she were really angry enough to—" Obi Wan took a deep, steadying breath, “—to bomb the temple, she would have gone in herself. She would have walked through the front door and made us listen. She never would have hired someone to take the fall for her or keep up a charade of ‘investigating’ the crime. She has Anakin’s lack of subtlety.”

That pulled a small smile from his Commander’s lips and Obi Wan carded his fingers through Cody’s dark, curly hair. It had gotten long enough that there was a noticeable difference on the days he spent helmeted and the days he did not. Obi Wan watched the compressed curls spring back under his fingertips and Cody’s eyes slid shut. The peppering of grey at his temples had grown, nearly matching Obi Wan’s even though the lighter auburn of his hair hid it well.

He ran a finger over one of the small scars that disappeared into Cody’s hairline and resisted the urge to move to the tiny one on the edge of his bottom lip. His Commander kept his eyes closed even as he smiled again.

“Sure, _cyar_ , Skywalker is the only one she got that from.”

Obi Wan chuckled softly, eyes falling on Cody’s helmet where it had been left on the tabletop. He felt the couch shift as Cody took his free hand. The fabric of his gloves was rough but warm where his fingers squeezed Obi Wan’s, not enough to hurt but enough that the pressure brought him back to himself.

“But she also has his determination,” Cody was looking at him now, his light brown eyes so soft and resolute. “And she has your hope.”

Obi Wan’s fingers stilled on the back of Cody’s neck and he held on to that, that _hope_ , not just for himself but for all the people he had been unable to save. Ahsoka was out in Coruscant, alone, and if Obi Wan went to find her it would be difficult to explain that he was trying to help her and not hunt her down. If she was taken back into GAR custody her trial would be even worse than before.

Hope was all he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _mirshmure’cya_ : Keldabe kiss  
>  _verd’ika_ : little soldier [context is key, can mean rank of Private]  
>  _elek gedet’ye_ : yes please  
>  _cyar_ : love [because _cyar'ika_ is a diminutive and means "darling", I'm using _cyar_ more to mean "dear".]
> 
> This chapter in particular alternated rapidly between sappy fluff and "bad things happen to Obi Wan," but really, isn't that just Star Wars?
> 
> ColorMeWind, I need you to know that we have gotten canon confirmation that vaguely smutty jedi romance novels did, in fact, exist and I feel so validated. (ref from [Light of the Jedi](https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/639864584074887168/light-of-the-jedi-by-charles-soule))
> 
> More art that I love and need more people to see: ([sun/moon](https://new-anon.tumblr.com/post/637086622788239360/sun-moon-print-available-on-inprnt#notes)... honestly most of [new-anon's](https://new-anon.tumblr.com) art is amazing. The [codywan](https://new-anon.tumblr.com/tagged/codywan) stuff is just my personal favorite.) (["good work commander"](https://cobaltbeam.tumblr.com/post/628896749991411713/good-work-commander)) ([part 1](https://alliseonline.tumblr.com/post/628800643567665152/commander-tired-of-your-bullshit-self-care-cody#notes) and [part 2](https://alliseonline.tumblr.com/post/636073305510723584/theyre-married-your-honor-sequel-to-this))

**Author's Note:**

> (I'll probably be adding tags as the story continues)
> 
> (I'm on tumblr at gershwyndl if you wanna hmu)


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